


pick a god

by shakeit_dontbreakit



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 00 line ensemble, Blood, Cyborg!AU, M/M, Nahyuck, Noren, Romance, Violence, little tiny bit of torture, oh what nahyuck, science for the sheer sake of it, side nahyuck, this is much cuter than it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21916183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shakeit_dontbreakit/pseuds/shakeit_dontbreakit
Summary: Renjun is a cyborg, the dawn of a new human age. Then there’s Jeno who falls in love with a literal brain. Things get a little goofy, things get a little bloody, and maybe the human touch still means something after all.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Na Jaemin
Comments: 47
Kudos: 236
Collections: ’00 FIC FEST: ROUND ONE





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ridiculous, that's what this thing is. equal parts goofy and fucked up 
> 
> 00ff prompt #0062 key takeaways:  
> full body cyborg renjun  
> nerd jeno (like bigggg nerd)  
> side nahyuck  
> jenyang besties  
> in the bleak midwinter

SECTORm-██ JOINT PROJECT : MORTAL INCIDENT REPORT 

DATE: Sunday, December 12 2025

SITE: █████████

PROJECT: █████

SUBPROJECT: ██

INCIDENT TYPE: Critical Breakout 

REPORTED BY: ██████

CASUALTIES: 17 

SURVIVORS: 2

INCIDENT DETAILS: 

On December 12th at 2148 hours ██ broke out of the ██████████ during a ████████, resulting in 17 casualties. 11 SECTORm and 5 ██ personnel dead, including the ████████████████████████ Further losses include but are not limited to: destruction of unique sample sets, property damage, compromised network security. Further details available upon request.

██ “tech-fucked” into the ███████ through the ███████ during a mandatory ██████████████████████████████████. While in the system ██████████████████, █████████. ███████████████████.███████████████████.

EYEWITNESS ACCOUNTS: 

█████: _“_ ███ _'s head just flying through the air, still smiling...”_

████: _“... we shouldn’t have done it. Any of it. We thought we were creating a god but... not a god. Instead we perfected a demon.”_

REPORTER COMMENTS: 

Blood.

A lot of blood. Just dripping off computers and lab equipment. That blood will keep dripping in my memory forever as will the image of ██████ sitting together in the middle of the carnage, sobbing. As much as I pity them, I know now that ██ deserved his retribution. I think I always knew that. We asked for this. ██ came for the flesh and blood we took from him. He took it all back, as he deserved to. It was his to begin with. 

Everything he is, from the flesh that was stolen to the retribution he orchestrated, that is him. I’ll be fired for this but this is the truth we have to face: we never deserved him. But we sure as shit deserved this. 

RESULTING ACTION EXECUTED, PLANNED, OR RECOMMENDED: 

Pick a god and pray.


	2. Chapter 2

The cold sheen cast by the computer monitor illuminates the room, revealing stacks of partially deconstructed technological devices and a few too many empty take-out containers. A pale, dark-haired young man sleeps awkwardly in a wheeled desk chair, his arms crossed almost stubbornly over his chest and his legs crossed at the ankle resting up on the desk. His neck cranes over the back of the chair and his glasses threaten to slip off the top of his head. 

The smallest of snores escapes him.

Multicolored lines of code run quickly across the screen as the model processes, too fast to catch more than a glimpse of any line at a time. With a long-suffering wheeze, six internal fans sputter to life inside the ramshackle PC tower in the corner; a pitiful attempt to cool down the computer as it steadily crunches through yet another complicated algorithmic model. The young man shifts slightly in the chair, angling his neck into a more comfortable position. 

Somehow the glasses stay on his head. 

Silent as death, a long-haired grey cat emerges from one of the shadowy corners and leaps onto the desk, gingerly stepping over the man’s feet and around the keyboard to get to the little nook in between the two desk monitors. She casts her orange eyes at the man sleeping in the chair and keeps them there for almost half a minute before curling up in the tiny space provided and sinking back into the shadows.

Her tail flicks once, twice, and then settles around her curled form. 

On the screen, the code runs and runs. The computer fans turn off to conserve power only to start back up again once the model reaches a particularly complicated function. The man shifts his position again, hugging his arms closer around his chest before tucking his hands under his armpits for warmth. 

He’s still asleep.

Abruptly the code processing stops, the fans die down, and a small window pops up in the middle of the screen with a loud, angry chime. As though trained for the sound even through slumber, the young man jolts awake, barely able to avoid falling right on his ass. He only rights himself at the last moment by taking his feet from the desk, jumping straight out of the chair and kicking it backwards on its wheels. The sudden flailing disturbs the cat and all but knocks over the monitor but the man doesn’t care, now practically pressing his nose against the screen to determine whatever the hell broke his model this time.

Even squinting so close the small script is still as blurry as Bigfoot. “Glasses...” 

He palms around his general vicinity for a pair of silver wire-frame glasses only to find them on top of his head, slipping them on with a silent laugh. After his eyes adjust to the clarity he checks out the details of the error window, his heart stilling for the moment it takes him to read it over. 

[file://E:/LJeno/BCIde/winter_capstone/neural-control_interface/iteration_7.gii

computation error : code(s) - 388-x, 33748, 903-rte, 430_z...

syntax error : code(s) - 554877_v43, cx-8017, 2m3, 99840-f-li...]

“Oh, I see how it is.” Jeno growls at his failure, clicking into the link supplied in the error window that opens a separate window of specific details for each problem. He reaches blindly behind him for his desk chair and takes a heavy seat once he wheels it back over.

Jeno’s eyes start to water as he reads about the first computation error and he sighs, running a hand through his greasy hair. He reads the same line five times without absorbing a single word before admitting to himself that he definitely needs to call it quits for the day. Or for the night, he doesn’t know which. Time doesn’t really matter to him right now, in fact the only time that exists in Jeno’s mind is his capstone project deadline.

Now that he’s been rudely awakened by the notification of more fatal project errors, Jeno sighs back into his chair and numbly appraises his physical state. 57 hours without sleep that isn’t a catnap, 18 hours without food, maybe 6 hours without water. Come to think of it, he probably hasn’t been breathing enough either. Obviously he has an automatic feeder and recycling water fountain for his cat, because if there’s one (and only one) thing Jeno cares about more than his future, it’s his beloved Serif.

Awful, sure, but such is the life of a poor mechatronic engineering doctoral candidate. Whenever he falls down the rabbit hole for coursework or a personal project, Jeno enters a flow state so all-encompassing he forgets he has a body. Hell, he kind of wishes he didn’t even _have_ a body if only to be free of the aggravating limitations of sleep and sustenance. Jeno would be long finished with his project if his feeble humanity wasn’t slowing him down, he’s sure of that.

The only surmountable limit of human potential is human physiology, so the species must overcome those physical restrictions in order to achieve this potential. Simple, right? Like many thousands of engineers all around the globe, Jeno wants to create the first holistic, self-sustaining brain-computer interface: the system that facilitates the communication pathway between a wired brain and an external machine. 

Basically, he wants to plug a human brain into a robot body and he wants it to _work._ He wants to create a pure, true cybernetic organism; a human brain resting within an enhanced mechanical body. Humanity possesses more knowledge than ever and the robotics industry has been booming for the last 40 years. The final step has always been combining the two. 

Alas, the gap between animate and inanimate is perfectly fucking difficult to overcome. If a falling apple got Isaac Newton hot on gravity, right now human ingenuity has stalled to the point where they need another apple, another sudden and game changing discovery. There’s a reason no one has achieved full-body cybernetization yet, even in an era of fully autonomous vehicular systems and cybernetic internal organ replacement.

Humans have been able to produce perfect artificial bodies for decades but the trick, the final puzzle piece, is actually finding a functioning conduit _between_ the mind and the machine. Considering the goal is to get a living organism to truly sync with inanimate material, Jeno isn't surprised no one has even gotten close yet. He doesn’t even expect to be the one to solve the full-body cyborg conundrum because nobody is close enough yet. Nobody.

Predictable failure lies ahead but that won’t stop Jeno from trying, failing, and acquiring more data for the next genius to learn from. He will happily be just one more step on the exponential staircase leading to the perfection of humanity—one of thousands of thousands, each step a failure and each of equal importance to the end goal.

Or at least that's what he's convinced his doctoral adviser.

Jeno rises from his seat with a small groan, stretching stiffly with a percussion of pops. Serif hops down from her spot on the desk and pads over to him, sliding through his legs like mercury. She lets out the smallest warble, almost birdlike, and Jeno repeats the noise back to her. After a quick moment Serif meows louder, angrier, which Jeno also perfectly duplicates. It’s like a conversation, sort of.

In an interesting and pitiful reversal of traditional cat-human dynamics, Serif actually talks more than Jeno does. As in, she meows more than Jeno makes noise in this apartment. As in, sometimes the only reason he _does_ talk is because she starts the conversation.

But such is the life of a poor mechatronic engineering grad— _slow down nerd, you might just fulfill your own prophecy,_ the surprisingly wise words of his neighbor pop into his head. As though summoned by Jeno’s very thought, a quirky rhythm of knocks sounds against his door; a clear sign of said neighbor, Liu Yangyang. 

_“It’s feeding time, your Nerdiness."_ He bellows through the door. _“On the way home I stumbled across some fried chicken and a cute little tub of EITHER mint chocolate or green tea ice cream. You’ll never figure out which unless you open the door.”_

Jeno likes to think of Yangyang as a neighbor rather than what he legally is: his landlord. ‘Neighbor’ reads as more familiar than ‘landlord’ and Jeno is too shy to admit they’re actually friends by now. Jeno moved into the rooftop apartment of Yangyang’s 3-story building about a semester ago, pays way less for rent than he should, and is consistently fed by his neighbor-landlord. Friend. 

He’s hazy on the details, but apparently the small complex is fully paid for and was inherited by Yangyang from a fond uncle, which sounds like a lie to Jeno but his gig here is too good to afford poking holes in the story. Plus Yangyang waived his No Pets policy for Serif so he clearly deserves his own secret or four. 

Dragging weary feet, Jeno barely remembers to pull on a worn robe before opening the door inward just the slightest bit. Sharp winter wind blasts through the gap, letting in a flurry of snowflakes and a slash of bright light so painful Jeno wonders if his batlike lifestyle over the last few weeks somehow actually transformed him into a vampire. 

This theory is bizarrely confirmed by Yangyang, grinning widely in a puffy red bomber jacket, paper bag in his gloved hand. He takes one look at Jeno’s pallor and light sensitivity and snorts. “Whoa there buddy, you’re looking a little... undead. Should I have brought you a bag of blood instead of ice cream?” 

Probably.

Yangyang pushes his door open further but doesn’t enter, letting in more snow and that infernal _light_. Jeno blinks snowflakes out of his lashes and finally acknowledges the wan light of a cloudy night. 

Not a vampire then, just a fucking idiot. His voice comes out in a croak after too many hours without speaking. “It’s nighttime?”

“Yup. Also, hello, nice to see you.” Yangyang’s smile slips a bit and he raises the bag of food. “Thought you might completely forget about silly things like protein and glucose so I grabbed this between shifts.”

Despite Yangyang collecting rent from Jeno and the elderly couple on the first floor for upkeep expenses, he still works as a restaurant delivery driver for supplemental income and free food (some of which makes its way to Jeno). It’s an odd job in a day and age boasting driverless vehicles and drone-delivery systems, but there are still enough Luddites out there who would rather starve than have their food delivered by machines.

 _The human touch still means something_ , Yangyang once explained, pain in his smile. 

“Thank you.” Jeno’s face heats up, a little pink returning to his cheeks. The flush intensifies when his stomach rumbles out a demand for the promised chicken. He shivers as he takes the bag of food, tucking his toes under his feet as a wave of frigid air washes over his ankles. 

They stay like that for a moment, silent.

“Spoiler: it’s mint chocolate chip.” Yangyang tries. 

Yikes. Jeno’s not normally this awkward around his friend but he’s completely braindead right now and just cannot rally or even fake any enthusiasm. He opens his mouth to convey this but Yangyang somehow beats Jeno to expressing his own point. 

“Okay Jen, since I think you might actually be sleepwalking right now I’m just gonna leave you to your thing. I have another delivery to get to anyway.” Yangyang smiles sweetly, taking a step back. “Please don’t sleepwalk off the roof. When you’re feeling human, come on down to my place and kick my ass in whatever game you want.”

“S-sorry. I’m lame. I—”

“You shut that mouth. Then open that mouth, put some ice cream in, and shut it again. You don’t even need to chew.” Yangyang has the nerve to kick some snow at Jeno’s bare feet, causing him to squeal and hop back like a startled rabbit. “I know your project is fucking everything and I know that deadline looms next week. Get through this and then cover a round of drinks for me or something.”

This actually brings a smile to Jeno’s face, small though it is. “Still. Sorry.”

“You’re speaking in one, two-word sentences buddy, just eat the food and go to bed. The chicken is coming out of your rent anyway, I lose nothing here.” 

That’s probably a lie but Jeno doesn’t call him out on it. He feels like shit, like a bad neighbor, but Yangyang does understand his situation and maybe Jeno should let his landlord take care of him a bit. Like a friend would. Friends stick with you through bad shit like half a month of project failures and minor vampirism. 

“Thanks. I’ll...” Jeno is now apparently monosyllabic on top of cold, hungry, thirsty, and _tired._ “I’ll check in tomorrow.”

“You better.” Yangyang turns on his heel with another wide grin. 

“I _will._ ” Jeno calls petulantly before closing his door with a deep sigh. 

He leans back against the metal door, cold and sturdy and oddly comforting. The chicken smells good but now that he’s back in the warm shadows of his apartment, exhaustion threatens to take him down to sleepytown before he can even get the ice cream into the freezer. 

Serif pads towards him, visible through the dark only because the light of the computer screen reflects off her glossy fur. Jeno slaps against the wall blindly, eventually triggering the motion sensor that illuminates his apartment too brightly and too fast. It takes a second for his eyes to adjust and when they do Jeno can really see the sorry state of the place. 

It’s more cavernous with the lights on, revealing shelves on shelves of dumpster machines and gadgets lining the walls from floor to ceiling. All told, Jeno’s hoarding cuts the cubic space of his studio down by almost a third. Some find it panic-inducingly cluttered but Jeno feels right at home living in an IT closet with plumbing and a futon. It’s not like he needs anything else.

Still, Jeno should do a thorough cleaning of this place or at the very least attempt to organize the mayhem into trash or soon-to-be-trash sections. After the semester, he’ll do it after he ventures down into hell, drags his project up from the depths, and tosses it right in his smarmy professor’s face. He’ll do it after he perfects his brain-computer interface model and reweaves the very fabric of humanity. 

Jeno will have to postpone changing the world though, because right now he needs sleep—actual REM, brain-decluttering, sanity-reclaiming sleep. In the end sustenance supersedes sleep in the order of living operations, so food first. Pushing off his door with a labored huff, Jeno steals a single chicken leg from the bag and stuffs it into his mouth before maneuvering through the apartment with gymnastic ease and hopping into his small studio kitchen. 

There’s a second piece of chicken in his mouth before Jeno even realizes he devoured the first one and he briefly wonders if he just swallowed it whole, bone and all. He has enough sense to put the ice cream in his freezer and and grab another wing. Finish the protein, pass out on his bed for half a day, wake up, and do it all over again. 

And then rinse and repeat ad infinitum until all the shit he’s throwing against the wall starts to stick and Lee Jeno semi-accidentally unlocks the door to the cybernetic future. It’s not that Jeno truly believes in himself to get the job done, he just knows it can be done—that it must be done. Jeno is willing to fail miserably in the attempt. 

Unsurprisingly, the positive effects of eating food hit Jeno quickly and he actually laughs at himself because of it. Duh, right, he technically just woke up from a nap and has just fueled himself semi-healthily, of course he’s ready to rumble and tinker with his project again. That’s definitely not just his sleep-deprived meat brain convincing itself either!

A gentle knocking on Jeno’s door interrupts his sluggish, delirious thought process and he sighs audibly, wrapping his robe tighter around his body. It has to be Yangyang slinking back to make sure he’s actually eating or something else equally considerate. Jeno appreciates him in his life and wants to keep him there so he drags his weary legs back to his front door, already plastering an exasperated smile on his face to greet him. 

Girding himself against the rush of winter air, Jeno opens his door inward once more, blinking small, powdered snowflakes out of his lashes and mumbling, “Come to steal my ice cream?”

“Ice cream means nothing to me.” He says simply, and that’s how Jeno knows his visitor is not Yangyang.

Then of course there are other hints like this stranger’s appearance, demeanor, and tone of voice. He and Yangyang are around the same height and this man is also wearing a red jack—not a jacket. Very not a jacket.

That’s just blood on his neck and torso. And hands. So much blood it looks like he dipped both arms in a bucket of it, all the way up to his elbows. This not-Yangyang character stands at his door barefoot and unbothered, clad in baggy (bloodstained) white capris and a matching (blood _soaked_ ) white tunic. Most of the blood is frozen to his body but he doesn’t look cold in the slightest.

“Lee Jeno?” The stranger asks easily, like a doctor making a house call. 

Maybe Jeno went to sleep after all, maybe Yangyang was right, he’s asleep and this bloody little slip of a thing is a mere figment crafted from delirium. Resigning himself to the fact that he is most likely in a very ( _very_ ) lucid dream, Jeno just looks at him in silence. 

He’s cute. Lithe, lightly-tanned skin only barely marred by all the blood, with sandy silver hair and eerily dark eyes. Looks like Jeno’s subconscious has its priorities well sorted except for the fact that this bloody man before him paints the very picture of a sweet little mental asylum escapee.

“You are him?” He asks, tilting his head mechanically. 

Jeno points to himself lamely, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Yes, you.”

Wait, has this guy blinked yet? 

The patient (convict? lunatic?) snaps his fingers twice. “Are you?”

Flinching from the snaps, Jeno shakes his head of his shock which the bloody visitor takes as a ‘no’ to his question. “You are not Lee Jeno?”

“No, no, I... I mean yes, I’m Lee Jeno.” He stumbles through, finally understanding down to his very soul that he needs to go to bed.

The bloody visitor claps his hands once before clarifying, “Founder, President, Treasurer, _and_ Secretary of the Speculative Cybernetics Organization at the Korean Institute for Advanced Study? That Lee Jeno?”

Well, it’s embarrassing when put like that but this blood-drenched pretty boy isn’t incorrect. “Yep... that’s definitely me.”

He smiles, kind of. The corners of his mouth twitch up a bit but his strange eyes show no mirth to go with it. Actually, they don’t express much of anything—the more Jeno looks into his eyes, the deader they seem. Dead and dark, as dispassionate and lethal as a shark.

He’s also very pretty, even through the frozen blood. He attempts another smile and this one is a whole 180 degree turn around from before, soft and warm and sweet and so _perfect_ Jeno’s heart spits up on itself a little bit. It’s as though he somehow downloaded the ideal smile to make up for his miserable failure the first time. 

“My name...” His introduction trails off and for the first time he displays discomfort and confusion, a welcome break from all this bizarre composure. “... the name they couldn't steal was... Renjun.”

Jeno can’t be dreaming, he’s too cold to be dreaming right now. “‘They’?”

“Those who received Prometheus’ fire and hoarded it for themselves.” Renjun answers, a strange gleam in the eyes Jeno once thought were dead. 

Jeno feels faint and doesn’t know what to say to this, so, “... they sound like assholes.”

Renjun seems to like this because he takes a step forward, then another, suddenly crowding Jeno back into his apartment, ushering in one last blast of snowflakes before shutting and locking the door swiftly behind him. 

“I need to take that fire back, dismantle the entire operation, and expose the greatest technological breakthrough since the wheel. Lee Jeno, I need your help to do this.”

Nothing. Jeno has absolutely nothing to say. There’s a lingering possibility that this person is, in fact, about to murder him and anxiety starts to crawl through his veins. Oh, wait, that’s _definitely_ what’s happening right now, he’s in the process of being murdered. Jeno’s blood will soon be added to this pretty little thing’s collection. 

This is how he dies, huh? Jeno’s actually surprised—he thought he was destined for cancer or some clumsy accident, not death at the hands of a cute loony.

It’s Serif that saves the day. The cat has proven to be a better judge of character than Jeno, and she pads over to the bloody stranger with her tail up in welcome. Jeno’s jaw drops to the floor when she weaves around his bare calves, purring up a storm. 

Renjun looks down at her, clearly pleased but ultimately confused. “So _this_ is a cat. Very lovely.”

Okay, this person likes cats so maybe being murdered is not in Jeno’s immediate future—somehow those two things correlate in his mind. 

“L-look man, I know my cat likes you and all but I think I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Jeno tries meekly. “To say nothing of all the blood you’re tracking in...”

Yeah, because _that’s_ the problem here, that his guest is tracking in blood.

“The blood is not mine.” Renjun assures, as if this makes a difference. “Back to it. I need your help, Jeno.”

If he weren’t absolutely undead right now Jeno would probably have fallen into some sort of catatonic shock but he lacks the energy to do even that. Also, this is a dream. Right. “Okay. Let’s just do this. Why me?” 

“I looked you up, Lee Jeno. All of you.” Creepy. “You are currently the 33rd closest plebeian to breaking through the Animate-Inanimate barrier and coding humanity’s first functioning brain-machine interface. Congratulations.” Renjun leans down the slightest bit, holding his bloody hand out for Serif to sniff. “You had the most applicable skill set compared to your proximity to me, a need that outweighed the benefit of taking time to seek out a greater intellect.”

Ouch? Also, wait, he’s the thirty-third closest to AIA breakthrough? 

“Excuse me?” Jeno can’t wrap his head around this. He’s also about to pass out. “W-what—who are you? Actually, no, none of this. I’m just dreaming, you go be whatever you want to be.”

Renjun shoots him that newly perfected smile. “I may be the manifestation of your greatest dream, but you are definitely not dreaming right now.” 

Well, he is dreaming so none of this matters. That’s probably why Jeno bursts out in laughter. 

“I don’t know, you don’t _look_ like the potion that will turn me into a cat for the rest of my life.”

Renjun blinks for the first time, then two more times, as though attempting to process this. “... excuse me?”

Score one for Jeno. “That’s my greatest dream.”

Eyebrows raising into bloodied bangs, Renjun eventually nods appreciatively. “I think I almost laughed there, Jeno. Okay, then. Your _second_ greatest dream.” 

Jeno considers this. “Well, you don’t _look_ like the giant talking egret Missus Feathers that drafts me to help save her kingdom from an impending nuclear—”

“For _fuck’s_ sake, Jeno, I’m a cyborg! I am a full-body cybernetically-augmented human that shouldn’t _exist_ yet.” Renjun snaps, breaking his composure and finally using linguistic contractions on top of it. “Here’s me, a human brain and spinal cord synced with a synthetic, mechanical body. About 3 hours ago I broke out of the laboratory that created me, killed a _lot_ of people, and now I need a place to lay low while I figure out next steps.”

This might actually be the greatest dream Jeno didn’t know he had, bloody boy included.

“I...” Jeno trails off into nothingness before the weight of Renjun’s words (and entire existence) settle in his brain. “... okay. Prove it.”

Prove it. Prove that this Renjun is the greatest technological wonder humanity has ever conceived. Prove that full-body cyborg technology is not only real, but _perfected_ in the form he sees before him. The perfected human could very well be standing sketchily in his apartment, tracking in snow and letting Jeno’s cat lick blood from his fingers. This is something Jeno is ready and willing to believe but Renjun needs to _prove_ it. 

Renjun stares back at him, considering this as though it were a challenge. On the off chance that he’s telling the truth, him being a full-body cyborg would explain some of the behavioral ticks Jeno has been picking up from him: no natural blinking, no breath fogging up the winter air, no conception of human norms like ‘blood is messy’ and ‘wear shoes, maybe’. 

“Okay.” Renjun says, pinching at the skin of his inner wrist. “Try not to freak out.”

Jeno isn’t ready. “I’m ready.” 

With a shrug, Renjun peels the majority of the skin away from his forearm like it’s _nothing_ , revealing a terrifyingly accurate approximation of human muscle, bone, and sinew. Everything looks exactly like it would if Jeno peeled off his own skin but the colors and material are all wrong—the synthetic muscles are forest green, the bone is some dark metal and where there would be veins on a flesh-body there are instead thin wires of red, blue, and yellow. No blood, just a strange oily sheen clinging to everything. 

He’s never seen tech like this before but he knows it shouldn’t be possible yet.

As he stares, Renjun tightens his hand into a fist and then relaxes it again, allowing Jeno to see the synthetic muscle flex with the movement. “Whoa.”

“Whoa indeed.” Renjun nods coolly, laying the flap of synthetic skin back where it should be. The skin seals itself together before Jeno’s eyes.

Okay, so this is real. All the blood drains from Jeno’s body, leaving behind the chill of realization that the existence of Renjun will change _everything._

“I... forgive me Jeno, I am not the best at interpreting flesh-body reactions... are you feeling nauseous? You suddenly went pale. Paler, actually.” 

Jeno has had two pieces of chicken and perhaps 2 hours of total sleep over the last two and a half days. He’s had barely any fresh air, absolutely zero exercise, and definitely not enough water. Plus the very world he lives in can never be the same now that the definition of humanity is about to be rewritten, so that’s a big one.

“... pale?”

It’s no wonder Jeno just faints right there, letting the darkness consume him as he falls into the bloody arms of a beautiful cyborg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)


	3. Chapter 3

Jeno wakes to a faceful of happy cat and gravity weighing down every inch of his body. He tries to sit up but finds this unexpectedly difficult. After his head clears a bit he sees that he’s in his own bed, tucked in as tight as a straight-jacket. That explains the weight. 

It takes a while to unravel himself and the effort is enough to tire him out again. What an absolutely wackadoodle dream that was. Yangyang comes and brings him food, then the sweetest little bloody cyborg bursts in and invites Jeno to change the world. It was incredibly lucid, still striking even in the light of morning. 

When he actually remembers the content of his dreams the details never cease to slip away as soon as full consciousness settles into the driver’s seat. So it’s strange that the longer Jeno is awake, the more he recalls of this one. Renjun covered in blood, the odd lack of contractions, that smile... 

Jeno smells coffee. 

“Good morning.” 

Oh. Okay.

Renjun stands in his kitchen, clearly visible from his futon. For starters, he’s no longer covered in blood, instead wearing a pair of black sweatpants rolled up a few times and a grey crew neck sweatshirt with Jeno’s university crest on it, the sleeves also rolled a few times. He’s too tiny for Jeno’s clothes, not by a ridiculous margin but enough to look like his dream boyfriend—especially when he’s holding a mug of coffee with both hands. This image of domestic perfection is completely incongruous with the bloody Renjun who stood in the snow outside his door in his dream.

The dream that apparently wasn’t a dream.

Jeno blinks a few times at Renjun, causing him to frown slightly in response. “It is morning... I am sure that is the right greeting.”

“No it is, wow. It’s just... real, huh?” Jeno lets out a long breath, lying back down on his pillow. “Good morning to you, too.”

“They never used unnecessary niceties with the subjects, so I have had no real practice.” Renjun explains with a shrug, unaware of how sad that sounds. 

That might explain why Jeno is tucked in so severely. Renjun knows what it is to ‘tuck someone in’ for sleep but he’s clearly never actually done it before, nor has it been done to him. It explains his odd greetings too, as though he memorized the vocabulary but didn’t practice it in speech enough for it to find life. 

“I do know how to make coffee, though.” Renjun says with a little smile, raising a steaming mug of it off the table. “I have had quite a bit of practice. Humans love this stuff.”

“You are... human?" Jeno questions oddly, more of a statement than anything. 

“Yes.” Renjun’s irises shine a lethal scarlet and the mug in his hands shatters. 

Fear, real fear courses through Jeno before Renjun screws up his face a bit, the dark brown returning to his eyes as he flicks coffee off his hands. “My apologies, Jeno. That appears to be something... please know I would never hurt you.” 

Watching Renjun pour another mug of coffee with inhuman grace and pure human bashfulness, Jeno realizes he believes him. Much like how it takes fewer muscles to smile than frown, belief weighs much less than rejection or hostility. The implications of his existence are terrifying, sure, but Renjun was correct when he called himself out as being Jeno’s dream. He has dedicated his life to creating the very thing now dabbing a coffee stain out of his carpet with a hand towel.

“I believe you and don’t worry, our species kind of sucks anyway.” Jeno shoots him an eye smile, struggling out of the sheets and rising to his feet. “Also that’s coffee—rubbing isn’t going to get it out of carpet.” 

“Who knew cleaning was this hard...” Renjun muses, now rubbing at the spot with vigor but exerting no effort, hands moving too fast to see.

“It’s not the cleaning that’s impossible, it’s just coffee.” Jeno corrects, walking over to Renjun and stifling a grin. “Please don’t bother to clean, you’re a guest here.”

Just hanging out with a cyborg on a pale morning, talking about coffee stains. It’s a good thing Renjun looks perfectly human on the outside because that means Jeno can fool himself into thinking this is all safe and normal. But Renjun hasn’t murdered him yet, he passed the Serif test, and while that red-eyed Kill Mode was alarming it was quickly controlled and apologized for. Two out of three is okay.

“You are much calmer than I expected.” Renjun says suddenly, locking eyes with Jeno. He doesn’t stop rubbing the carpet, his arm now on autopilot generating more and more friction.

The smell of burning fibers gives one moment of warning before the patch of carpet bursts into a small flame. 

Jeno doesn’t get to the ‘drop and roll’ part of the equation, he just stops in place while Renjun calmly considers the fire and stifles the entire flame with his hand. No more coffee stain, just a larger burn on his carpet. Totally fine.

Jeno and Renjun stare at the spot for a few moments and the former starts to giggle as the absurd situation settles. The cyborg looks up at him, confused but quietly delighted by Jeno’s laughter. Either Jeno is learning to read the subtlety of his physical expressions or Renjun is toning them up for his sake and regardless of why, things are getting easier.

“I believe you, Renjun.” Jeno mutters quietly, watching as he stands up. He's small, swamped in oversized clothes and Jeno is stricken with the unreasonable desire to protect him. Not to protect the future of humanity, no, but to keep Renjun, the individual, from harm. 

This urge to protect Renjun is misguided but still so present, especially since he’s just standing there looking adorable. “I believe you and I'm definitely going to help, but for right now how about we make a rule that the meat human stays in charge of housekeeping while the metal human takes a seat and _explains.”_

The corner of Renjun’s mouth lifts and his eyebrow twitches—a smirk? “Deal.”

He carefully sits on one of the bar stools in the kitchen. “I shall begin with the abstract and then we’ll move on to the presentation I have compiled in your work room.”

“Presentation? L-like a PowerPoint?” Jeno asks dumbly. Actually, a PowerPoint on Renjun would be incredibly instructive.

“Anything through computers would be too traceable, even off the cloud.” Renjun shakes his head. “No, I shall explain Project Hyperion with pen and paper. And markers, I used nine colors of markers. It is quite a feat, if I do say so myself.” 

Jeno takes the other stool across the island counter top from Renjun, taking a sip of his coffee. It’s not very good but he smiles as though it is. 

“This is knowledge that cannot be unlearned. Or rather, if you are unwilling to help me I cannot let you know any more.”

Jeno recognizes this as the true point of no return so he lets it hit, linger, and then drift into memory. He nods once and the cyborg begins his tale. 

“25 years ago a mechatronic interface specialist broke through the Animate-Inanimate barrier and created the first true Direct-Neural Interface. At around the same time I was sold as an infant to SECTORm, a secret organization created for the sole purpose of taking advantage of this breakthrough. Amazing though it was, solving the AIA barrier problem didn’t come with solving the rest of the riddles of full-body cybernetics and it took decades for the rest of technology to catch up to the potential offered by a perfect neural interface system.”

“Someone... really did it, huh.” Jeno muses, looking into his coffee and fishing out a floating cat hair. “A whole 25 years ago?

Renjun blinks before leaning forward slightly. “Do you believe me? Why do you believe me?”

“Well you’re very persuasive, and it helps that I actually understand the AIA barrier.” Jeno shoots him an eye smile. “So you’re a brain plugged into a machine. A brain and a spinal cord and clearly just as human as anyone else. No wonder this took a quarter of a century to perfect.”

“ _Partial_ spinal cord. Would you like to see?” Renjun corrects and digs his fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck, apparently fully prepared to open up his skull like a cookie jar.

“No need, seriously, do not. No need to do that, not at all. Never, actually. Please never do that.”

An almost-smile flicks across Renjun’s flawless face. “Are you squeamish?”

Yes, obviously, but also, “Just unsanitary, dude. I mean there’s cat hair _everywhere._ In the air, in my clothes...” 

Renjun’s irises shine silver (a different Mode than just Kill? X-ray? An optical analytics overlay?) and he raises his arms to inspect the oversized sweater he wears with this new perception. He laughs brightly when the cat hairs become apparent and his eyes flick back to dark brown. 

“Hm, you are very right about that. Okay, no cranial excavations today, Jeno. Maybe if you’re good I’ll let you poke my grey matter somewhere down the road.”

Was that? Flirting? Does Renjun know what ‘poke’ implies? Somehow Jeno manages to recover. “I think I counted two whole contractions there...”

He means it to be a joke, a throwaway (about diction of all things) but Renjun takes it seriously. “It seems to make you more comfortable when I speak colloquially. Dude.”

Jeno bursts out laughing. “We might have to work on your terms of endearment.”

“Did I not use ‘dude’ correctly?” 

“Grammatically, kind of. But nah, dude.” Jeno flashes a crescent-eyed smile. 

After this oddly sweet attempt at intimacy Renjun attempts to copy Jeno’s eye-smile but something in the way his face is built prevents him from doing so. He still tries, clearly aware that his face can’t actually get the job done. Is Jeno supposed to be moved by that? Because he is. 

“Okay, so.” Jeno shakes his head and lays his palms flat on the wood of the counter. “Obviously I need to know more but for now, just. Why me?”

Renjun could have gone to any of the other 32 people closer to the neural-interface breakthrough, but he picks Lee Jeno, a reclusive doctoral student sharing a metal cave with a cat. It can’t just be because he was the closest person to Renjun like he said before.

“Prior to my breakout I used SECTORm’s resources to find and eventually choose you as my best bet. You understand cybernetic practices well enough to be of assistance to me if I need repairs. Factoring in intellect, age, location, and character, I decided you would be the most capable while still being the most sympathetic to me and my cause. We’re the same age—”

“ _WHAT?”_ Jeno’s eyes bug out. 

“I thought I implied that when I explained SECTORm, but yes, I am older than you by exactly one month. I would be remiss in saying age and sympathy were not part of the equation when it came to choosing you.”

Jeno opens his mouth to make a noise—not a word, just a noise—but Renjun quickly adds, “Plus, you don’t have many people in your life, do you? Who are you going to tell?”

Big ouch but there’s clearly no malicious intent behind it so Jeno takes it in stride. “Yangyang, probably.”

“Oh, your landlord?”

“Friend.” Jeno corrects. “Did you look into him as well?”

“Liu Yangyang can speak four languages and is one of startlingly few people in this city who can manually operate vehicles. The value he could bring was indeed factored into me choosing you.” Renjun admits easily. “Two dudes with one stone, you might say.”

Renjun manages to do surprisingly well the second time he attempts ‘dude’ and Jeno can’t help but be proud of him for it. 

“Well, I suppose we should get to it then, Jeno. Allow me to present,” Renjun almost excitedly gestures into Jeno’s work space, shooting him another smirk. “The War Room.”

As he slept, Renjun discarded half of the junk in his apartment and rearranged the rest for better feng shui and also to be able to fit two large whiteboards into his cramped work space/living room. Jeno doesn't know where he got the whiteboards, nor the double rainbow of dry-erase markers. He’s pretty sure Renjun stole them.

The cyborg used these stolen items to build this War Room, complete with maps and webs right out of a detective procedural drama. The only things missing are the different colored threads linking this to that but Renjun makes up for this lack of textile with exceptional artistic skills and clever color coding. 

A supercomputer killing machine piloted by a true artist. 

To avoid the risk of being traced through researching information and printing it out, Renjun hand-drew each and every diagram, picture, and person, pulling the images from some cybernetic eidetic memory bank. The attention to detail in the pictures is staggering, all of the drawings keeping to this certain artistic style of his that Jeno cannot describe or stop marveling at. 

“How long is this going to take?”

“I have it timed at around 4 hours and 35 minutes, plus or minus fifteen. You should get comfortable.”

[4 HOURS, PLUS OR MINUS FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER]

“—all of which resulted in meeting—” Renjun snaps his antenna directly onto a rather flattering pen sketch of Jeno. “—you.” 

Jeno, over-caffeinated and mind-blown, sits cross-legged in his ratty sofa chair and tries to absorb this firehose of ridiculous information. He and Renjun have been at this for hours and there’s still a whole fourth whiteboard side to get to. 

Turns out Renjun is a natural at tutoring, somehow nailing the balance between instructional authority and inspirational naivety, but Jeno will admit they got off to a rocky start and technically it wasn’t even his fault.

Renjun doesn’t have guns or rockets embedded in him or anything sinister, oh no. The one and only ‘weapon’ he has is his laser-pointer finger, which is exactly what it sounds like. Renjun’s right forefinger can indeed shoot lasers, but only the type used for presentations and fucking with cats. 

So, he used this finger to indicate points on the first board for about five peaceful minutes before Serif came out of _nowhere_ and jumped straight at the board, full of a heroic effort to finally get that fucking dot. In doing so she knocked the board over entirely. Jeno, well into his second cup of coffee, busted a lung laughing at this rare display of cat idiocy. Serif didn’t get the infernal dot but she did take out one whole half of Renjun’s War Room. 

“Huh.” Was all Renjun had to say.

“Oh, you know.” Jeno shrugged. “Cats.”

Having to ditch the laser as a mode of presentation, Renjun quickly found a vintage radio antenna and after reassembling the board they hit the learning road once more. 

The first of these whiteboards detailed Renjun’s life history with a well-organized timeline. When Renjun was an infant his parents sold him to SECTORm and he, along with other infants at the time, were raised as lab rats and exposed to maddening and unnecessary biological and neurological experimentation. All of it one giant, government-sanctioned War Crime. All of this in the name of Project Hyperion, a project that removed and replaced limb after limb as the test children aged and the science advanced. The technology grew as he did; machine and man evolving together through twisted symbiosis.

The subjects dropped off one by one. Some to the physical requirements of cyber implantation, others lost in the neurological experiments. Eventually they were whittled down to a small handful of survivors... and finally there was Renjun, the only Child of Hyperion to reach full-body cybernetization.

Flipping the timeline whiteboard over revealed a highly detailed breakdown of the components and materials that make up Renjun’s artificial body, complete with a perfectly drawn, multicolored diagram of himself. A very complicated key in the upper corner utilizes all of his marker colors and then further introduces dots, dashes and asterisks. Jeno tried to pay attention to the cyborg’s long-winded explanation of his physiology but he couldn’t stop admiring the masterpiece of a diagram (and maybe the guy who drew it) long enough to retain as much as he should have.

One thing he did absorb was that Renjun needs to ‘plug into’ a clean source of energy at least once a week to keep himself at around 75% functionality. He’s currently puttering along at about 45% charge, as detailed by a very cute drawing of a half-full battery in a corner of the board. The situation isn't dire yet but it will be, and unfortunately Renjun’s technological sophistication demands more than a dirty wall socket or an EV charging station. 

That is Renjun’s (and Jeno's) first priority: finding a viable source of energy. The longer Renjun goes without a power infusion, the more systems and features of his become inaccessible, like Kill Mode and his Silver Scan. He loses power as quietly and steadily as sand running through an hourglass and this is problematic because there are three, maybe four facilities good enough for Renjun to charge from in the entire city of Seoul. To make matters worse, the best two of these energy sources happen to belong to the hell he killed his way out of.

The cyborg’s second whiteboard is larger than the first and completely covered with flowcharts, sketched drawings of various people, maps, blueprints of buildings, crime scenes, and in one strange case a small drawing of Kusanagi Motoko from Ghost in the Shell. The contents of this board are arranged with much less coherence than the two that preceded it. Messy and idiosyncratic, it looks more like a snapshot of Renjun’s mind than a clear-cut explanation of all the powers and parties involved in his creation. 

According to Renjun, the 'Hyperion conspiracy' touches on Big Pharma, the Korean government, at least one foreign clandestine service, and the black site laboratory SECTORm. Never one to pass up a good conspiracy theory, Jeno finds it very easy to get on board here, especially since Renjun is all the proof he needs.

Intriguingly the photo in the center of this board _isn’t_ Renjun, instead a perfect profile sketch of a pale, striking man in a white lab coat with dark hair and an even darker smile. The attention to detail of this sketch is second to no other and is at an entirely different level than his drawings of Jeno or even his own diagram. This man is the only thing on any of the boards seen so far that Renjun hasn’t explained yet and happens to be one of the biggest questions on Jeno’s mind. 

Not, ‘how can my own government have sanctioned such abusive research on the sly?’ but, ‘so who’s that science-looking guy in the middle that you are pointedly not talking about?’ 

By his own estimation Jeno is doing well here considering Renjun is technology unseen and unheard of anywhere but fiction. The photo of Kusanagi was actually a rather clever tool when it comes to comparison because Renjun is more or less that very full-body cyborg. More or less. 

Renjun is all a bit more or less, it seems. More than a miracle, less than a miracle; more than human, less than human. 

“Do you have any questions so far?” Renjun asks, putting a hand on his hip with raised eyebrows. “You look like you do.”

Jeno decides not to bring up Dr. Dark Eyes, the center of everything. “Well... yes. Thousands of technical questions—”

Renjun opens his mouth but Jeno keeps rolling through. “—but those answers will come naturally. I guess I really just have one...?”

Jeno tilts his head with questioning inflection and Renjun mirrors his action in silence. Even without any true visual manifestation of fondness Jeno thinks he sees it in Renjun’s eyes. Fondness or confusion. Or mistrust.

Okay, so Jeno has no clue but hopes its fondness because he already decided about 1.5 whiteboards ago that he’s all in here. Renjun has been treated with cruelty and ambiguity his entire life—he even treats _himself_ as an ambiguity. So Jeno wants to introduce him to the opposite: unequivocal loyalty. 

“Just one question. How can I help you?”

Renjun freezes in place, blinking twice as he processes this. Comprehending this question takes up more time and energy than Jeno wants so he elaborates. 

“Not like, ‘fucking shit, how could someone like me possibly help someone like you’, but, you know. I want to help you. I’m going to help you. Just tell me what you need and I’ll try my hardest to get it done."

“I...” Looks like Renjun is still processing, running Jeno’s words and expressions through every betrayal filter he has. “So.”

Finally Jeno seems to have the upper hand here, and all from a bit of basic human decency. “I’m with you, Renjun. 100% with you 100% of the time with 100% of my ability.” 

After his gears stop whirring, Renjun smiles. It’s small, nothing like his first attempt or his perfected smile. This is an accident, a breath of escaped joy. 

“Okay. Me too. I am— _I’m_ with you, but technically my recorded maximum ability level is at least tenfold greater than yours so I suppose I’m with you 1000%... plus or minus 250%.”

Cute. Also terrifying. If Renjun’s measurement uses regular human capability as a reference point for his own potential, SECTORm and Dr. Dark Eyes don’t stand a fucking chance. 

“We are partners now.” Renjun nods, looking to his main whiteboard. “I’m not the only one benefiting from this, either. The last leg of this presentation is my gift to you. One of many more to come, I assure.”

Gift? Jeno doesn’t need anything in return because Renjun’s existence alone is the greatest gift he’ll ever receive. But that’s before the cyborg shoots him a grin and flips the whiteboard over with a surprisingly dramatic flourish, proud of himself.

Ohhhh boy.

Just kidding, Jeno needs _this_ in return. 

The cleanest whiteboard of the four, Renjun’s gift to him is seven lines of algebra. Seven lines that solve one of the most elusive scientific limits in human history, all of it painstakingly presented in that flawless handwriting of his. All told, these seven lines are worth more than a third of the GDP of Europe. 

The Animate-Inanimate barrier problem is solved and elucidated right here in front of his face. Jeno (and every single other person working on this) assumed the AIA barrier had to be broken in order for humanity to rewrite it but the truth, Renjun’s truth is that this wall didn’t need to be destroyed at all. The algo on this board is more akin to a creatively abstracted electroendosmosis theory—it was never about destroying the barrier between what is living and what is not, it’s about _permeating_ it. 

“I memorized this before I escaped but let it be known that I don’t understand any of it.” Renjun circles the algorithm with the extended radio antenna. “So, what do you think, did I just give you the key to your capstone project?”

Dear lord, Jeno didn’t even _think_ of that. This doesn’t just solve his project, it _is_ his project. He can’t even respond to Renjun, instead striding over to the board to read it again and again and again.

“Yes, I know this could easily be construed as cheating but you really are _so_ close to this breakthrough I consider the harm to be minimal.” Renjun explains, more to fill the void of conversation than because Jeno needed to hear it. In a silent moment he’s by his side, looking at Jeno instead of the whiteboard. “Again, I only know that you were close, not why.”

Oh, Renjun straight up doesn’t understand himself. But Jeno does. Armed with the contents of this whiteboard Jeno could write the code that allows Renjun to see or feel. He could actually _hack_ him if he had a mind to, he could make him better than he already is. 

Jeno really can help this new god. 

“This... “ He still can’t form sentences, though. 

“If I knew you’d be staring at this for the rest of your life I’d have made it much prettier. More colors at the very least...” Renjun muses aloud. 

Jeno recognizes this as another effort to fill the silence from an entire life history of leaving such silences. That’s part of the reason he and Yangyang get along so well, his friend is natural entertainer with both bark and bite and Jeno is a patient and supportive listener through and through. 

A jazzy tempo of knocks raps on his door, marking the second time Yangyang seems to have been summoned by thought alone. Great guy, great friend, but this is too soon of a confrontation even despite Renjun hinting at recruiting him. They haven't planned for this. Technically they haven't planned anything. 

Renjun’s eyes glow silver again and Jeno is certain he can see Yangyang through the door now—Anatomy Lesson #6: Thermoptic rendering. Renjun shakes his head once before narrowing his silver eyes and scanning the rest of the room as though assessing just how incriminating it is and any possible means of making it less so.

_“Knock knock, buddy. I actually did bring a blood bag this time.”_

Jeno stands dumbly for a moment, pursing his lips before jogging to the door.

“Wait!” Renjun hisses, “Not now, this can’t happen right now. I only had enough time to properly vet you, not him.”

_“Just kidding, I don’t know why I said that. I do have tteokbokki though and that’s red and... soupy. Close enough.”_

Jeno shrugs helplessly, nodding to the door as Yangyang knocks again in funky double-time. “You said two dudes, one stone! Why can't this be that stone?”

Renjun scoffs, rolling both whiteboards into Jeno’s bedroom with a sense of directive that shows he has somehow solved the crisis of ‘where do we put these beautiful and incriminating whiteboards?’ In another moment he has the blanket and sheets stripped off Jeno’s bed.

“The situation is too dire not to vet potential allies or to improvise any introductions that follow.” The cyborg explains quickly, stacking the two huge whiteboards horizontally on his bare bed. “It’s not the right time.”

“Yeah but—”

 _“It’s almost cute that you think I, your benevolent landlord, don't know the code to the apartment I legally own. I’m coming in~!”_ Yangyang issues his final warning. _“I know you’re nerd-hot and all but I’d prefer you to not be naked. You have ten seconds to get decent.”_

This is a lie, as Yangyang is already typing in the 4-digit code to Jeno’s apartment (Serif’s birthday, 0620) as he bids Jeno to put on some pants. He feels cold winter air stream into the apartment the exact moment Renjun tosses the blankets over the whiteboards.

Turning to the doorway Jeno can only blink a few times at Yangyang, whose eyes flick immediately to Renjun now tidying the bed as best as he can. He’s swimming in Jeno’s clothes, making his bed, looking for all the world like someone who just spent the night.

“Holy shit.” Yangyang starts off completely floored but controls his expression in an instant. “Well... hey there, I’m Yangyang. You like tteokbokki?”

Renjun straightens up and smiles sweetly, also completely in control of his shit. “I’ll pass but I do appreciate the offer.”

In another display of ‘remember, I own this joint’ Yangyang struts right past Jeno who shuffles to shut the door in his wake. Renjun meets him in the kitchen and offers a seat before pouring him some coffee. Smart. If Renjun leans into this boyfriend ruse they might be able to weasel out of this one.

“I’m Renjun. I have heard a lot about you.”

“Little old me?” Yangyang snickers, unbagging the tteokbokki and placing it on the counter. He seems to take this as some sort of invitation to stay around but it's not like Jeno's going to physically throw him out. “And how long has Jeno been hiding you from the world?”

“Just one night.” Renjun smiles perfectly. Okay, looks like they’re not going for the boyfriend ruse.

“Is that so?” Yangyang’s eyebrows shoot into his copper bangs and he twists around in his chair to face Jeno. “Oh you _dog._ Didn’t think you had it in you, nerd-boy.”

Yikes. Jeno has to get better at comebacks because he has absolutely nothing to say to that. He gapes instead.

“Jeno is still buffering so please allow me to clarify.” Renjun chuckles. “We didn’t sleep together.”

“I haven’t even _touched_ him, not once.” Jeno bursts in anxiously, finally joining them in the kitchen. 

“Besides falling into my arms, of course.” Renjun reminds him. 

“Well... yeah. But.” 

Yangyang has been watching this like a ping-pong match, utterly mesmerized and perfectly content to let it all play out.

“No need to pout about it, after all you were the one who balked at poking my grey matter.” 

This is the final straw for Yangyang. “Grey matter? Like, brains? I... know everyone is entitled to their own kinky shit, but. Seriously what the fuck?” 

Jeno wrings his hands, shooting puppy eyes at Renjun to get him to take the reins here. It sort of works.

The cyborg has the gall to flutter his eyelashes at him first. “Fine, fine. I shall clarify my clarification. Are you familiar with Ghost in the Shell?”

“Binged Stand Alone Complex with Jeno.” Yangyang nods before looking Renjun up and down once. “You’re Major Kusanagi?”

The ease at which Yangyang comes to this conclusion is startling, even to Renjun. “Yes, actually.” 

“Niiiiice. Okay, so if _he_ won’t poke your grey matter, can I?”

“Yes, but Jeno doesn’t want me opening my skull in his apartment so you will have to wait until we find a more antiseptic setting.”

“My apartment is pretty clean...” Yangyang mutters, pursing his lips in thought as he looks around Jeno’s not-so-clean studio. 

Serif hops onto the counter, headbutting Yangyang’s shoulder in affection. “Aha, there’s my girl. Did you somehow get more beautiful since I last saw you?”

Yangyang adores Serif and the feeling is mutual, in part because he often brings her treats as well as Jeno. 

“So...” Jeno butts in awkwardly, still astounded by Yangyang’s composure. "Want to join Team Cyborg?”

The two turn to him as one, both unhappy with the team name.

Yangyang tutts. “Yeah, so, I don’t know all the dirty details and might be missing something here but... you really couldn’t think of a better name than that?”

“Seriously...” Renjun chimes in, encouraging Yangyang to continue.

“I mean, this is supremely cool shit going on here and ‘Team Cyborg’ sounds like something a handful of pimpled tweens at robotics camp would dream up.” Yangyang hits hard before considering this and ending with an even stronger blow. “Oh man, you _were_ that pimpled tween, weren't you?”

“Shut up. I’m being serious.” Jeno blushes, having been that very tween. He glances at Renjun to find him already staring back. 

“I mean, I _am_ the dawn of a new human age. ‘Team Cyborg’ doesn’t quite capture that majesty.” Renjun has already picked up humor from spending all of ten seconds with Yangyang. “Sorry Jeno, you’re just fun to... hm...”

“‘Fuck with’.” Yangyang supplies immediately. “You’re definitely going for ‘fuck with’.”

“You’re fun to fuck with.” Renjun claps his hands, switching into lecture mode. “Alright Yangyang, here's the pitch."

Wiggling his eyebrows in excitement, Yangyang gestures for Renjun to begin.

“Right! I am on the run from a number of powerful, government-backed foes and our first priority is finding a source of energy so I can recharge and we can, perhaps, stand a chance. Liu Yangyang, from what I know you have access to at least one off-the-grid manual vehicle, you know this city better than a GPS, and you have... odd connections.”

“Okay, vague.” Yangyang shrugs good-naturedly, slipping his hands in his pockets. “Also... accurate. _”_

“It is clear to me that ‘delivery boy’ is a front, but I cannot seem to figure out what lies beneath it.” Renjun nods. "Such sneakiness implies criminality of some sort but I won't hold that against you.”

Jeno gapes, locked out of the conversation. Criminality? Delivery as a front? Who _is_ Liu Yangyang?

“See, now you’re just shooting in the dark.” Yangyang smirks, fluttering his lashes dramatically. 

Renjun takes this literally. “Yes, but I have heat vision so... moot point.” 

“Um, okay...” Jeno tiptoes in. “So. What? Yangyang, what did he mean by that?”

“In due time, buddy.” Yangyang winces a bit. “Pretty sure Renjun’s everything outweighs any little something of mine.”

Renjun nods in clear agreement, probably not intending to be rude. “Yangyang, I know you're involved with something and I wished to vet you properly before reaching out, but plans change. And clearly Serif loves you so I would call that a test passed with flying colors. Will you join us?”

“What’ll you do if I don’t?” Yangyang asks, a sneaky smile illuminating his face. “Snuff me out and dump my corpse in the Han? By the way there are much, _much_ better ways to dispose of a body than that.”

Renjun doesn’t answer immediately and Yangyang just laughs. “Disconcerting silence notwithstanding, this adventure sounds pretty fun—you can count me in. I mean someone’s gotta look after Jeno while you’re busy kicking ass.”

And just like that, Liu Yangyang joins the group chat.

“Welcome to Team Cyborg.” Jeno gives the name another shot. 

“We are not calling it that.” Renjun puts this down without even looking at him. “Happy to have you on board, Yangyang. Care for more coffee?” 

“Yes, please!” Yangyang chimes, holding his mug out sweetly. “So, how might I assist the dawn of the new human age?”

“For starters, you can help us reassemble the War Room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)


	4. Chapter 4

[HYPERION]:

Latest intelligence reports came through

Eos did indeed pick the cutest engineer in the vicinity

Which means I won the bet

You owe me your arm, son

  
  


[HELIOS]:

ughhhhhhhhgjjjkk seriously? 

and he was the most pragmatic among us 

well lee jeno IS cute, no doubt about that

i might have chosen to die with him as well

  
  


[HYPERION]:

Need I remind you of my explicit orders to recover them alive?

As in, ALIVE

He may be the renegade but he is still my child

My one and only prototype

  
  


[HELIOS]:

got it

never actually intended to kill him 

  
  


[HYPERION]:

I’m serious

His death will mean yours

Now let’s talk about that right arm you wagered 

  
  


[HELIOS]:

why dont you ever ask for something normal 

like a million won

or a massage

something that isn’t a body part maybe

  
  


[HYPERION]:

I asked for the arm, yes, but you were the one to actually wager it

Over something as stupid as Eos’ choice of partner

That’s on you

  
  


[HELIOS]:

considering you never ask permission for my limbs, ever

i thought id at least get some skin in the game

thats a joke

you know

for illusion of control over my own body

  
  


[HYPERION]:

Surgery is in half an hour in Med Bay 3

You get 24 hours to recover and adapt to the prosthetic

  
  


[HELIOS]:

harsh

  
  


[HYPERION]:

You’ll like the arm

It has been designed specifically to counter Eos

You’re stronger than you could ever be without it

It negates his weight, for one

  
  


[HELIOS]:

blahblah blah 

thanks i guess

im at med bay 3 already

where are you?

  
  


[HYPERION]:

Oh no, I’M not doing the surgery

I have better things to do

  
  


[HELIOS]:

of course you do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)


	5. Chapter 5

Yangyang stands before the two whiteboards with a hand on his hip and a toothpick in his mouth, coolly digesting the last two hours of Renjun’s explanation. “Huh. Well? All in all this is pretty fucked up, Renjun. We’re definitely going to need more help.”

“I assumed as much.” 

After a quick deliberation they relocated the War Room to Yangyang’s bigger, cleaner, all around nicer loft to loop him in. Yangyang’s apartment is the entire top floor of his building and it’s surprisingly well-furnished, sprinkled here and there with displays of wealth like real leather couches, unused space, and a high grade vault the size of a refrigerator.

A _vault._

Nothing modern, no biometrics, just old school steel with a huge 120-digit circular combination dial lock. Hardly a new feature of his place, the vault has always been there, Yangyang just never explained it and Jeno never asked. His landlord makes his own hours, has excess cash, an off-the-grid vehicle, and a huge fucking combination safe. Jeno actively overlooks these oddities because his life is unequivocally better with Yangyang in it than the reverse.

Now with Renjun throwing around things like ‘odd connections’ and ‘criminality’, Yangyang’s jest about knowing how to dispose of a body actually holds water. He could be a hitman, some gang member—hell, he has the charisma to be a gang leader. Yangyang very well could have disposed a few bodies in his life, maybe even contributed his own to the heap. 

As awful as that sounds, if it _were_ true Jeno's opinion of Yangyang would remain unscathed. Gangster or not, Yangyang has already wiggled snugly into his life and happily shares his food, water, and shelter with Jeno. 

Yangyang gave him friendship. He gave him a home. If Jeno wasn’t forever loyal to him for that alone, the fact is that Yangyang is his best friend and bit of blood on his hands isn’t going to change that. 

Afterall, one of the very first facts he learned about Renjun was that he slaughtered his way out of SECTORm and Jeno still developed the biggest, stupidest crush on him within moments. 

Renjun floats around the boards as Yangyang continues appraising the contents of War Room 2.0, but apart from one or two quiet, well-worded questions about operational details Yangyang seems to be better off taking it in on his own. Jeno wonders which details he pays most attention to, the things that stick long after he’s moved to a different board. He’s willing to bet it’s not the algebra. 

In fact Yangyang went straight for the third whiteboard, the place where the information provided by the other boards clashes messily against the problems and unknowns they have yet to encounter. It makes sense. Yangyang is guided by the forces of imagination and chaos—a priceless complement to Jeno’s practical and rigid sciences.

They’re opposite in approach but seem to share a similar intuition, as Yangyang also casually avoids asking about the picture in the center. Dr. Dark Eyes. The man Jeno believes to be the inventor of the AIA algorithm, arguably the only thing in the world more important than Renjun’s existence.

Absentmindedly munching on tteokbokki in Yangyang’s lavish kitchen, Jeno hasn’t spoken once in the last hour, content to study the algorithm instead of join the other two. He’s written it over and over in his notebook despite having memorized it in the first twenty seconds of its reveal. Jeno forgot to bring his laptop or even a tablet down to their new War Room so he takes notes with pen and paper, pleased with everything except the fact that Renjun hasn’t looked at him in awhile.

As if he actually reverted back to his pimpled nerd tween self, Jeno just wants Renjun’s undivided attention again. That's all. Based on the conversations between the other two—SECTORm infrastructure and site locations, details of his escape, the technical requirements of his energy source—Yangyang is much more of an asset to their loosely-defined plan than Jeno.

But instead of wallowing in superfluousness Jeno rolls up his sleeves and digs back down into his comfort zone: nerd stuff. Specifically, algebra.

Whoever Dr. Dark Eyes is, he’s beyond brilliant. Succinct and elegant, the algorithm is somehow also loose and for lack of a better word, _charismatic._ It’s verse instead of prose; music and math all in one. 

What he wouldn’t give to have someone else to discuss this with, but Renjun has already made it apparent that he doesn’t understand any of it and Yangyang literally uses Jeno as a human calculator when breaking down building utilities and resource allocation, so. 

Mathematics, from the basic to the imaginary, is _his_ arena. 

While they only see seven lines of letters and symbols, Jeno smells a seven flower bouquet and hears a seven part harmony. A dense pit forms in Jeno's gut at the realization that he might never be able to express the sheer beauty and power of this discovery to the person who deserves it the most. This algorithm may not be Renjun’s heart or soul but it is the essential nature of his being; the reason he can even exist in the first place.

Jeno wishes he could somehow express to Renjun just how beautiful it— _he_ —really is and decides in that very moment that he’ll spend the rest of his time with the cyborg trying to do just that. 

“Is it really _that_ engrossing?” 

Looking up from his notes he’s a bit startled to see Renjun across from him, his elbows on the kitchen counter resting his head in both hands sweetly. So now the cyborg has picked up cheekiness from Yangyang as well as humor. 

Suddenly presented with an opportunity to compliment the fuck out of Renjun, of course Jeno flounders. “Y-yeah. You can’t even imagine how powerful this is. You are. This is you and I just... you know?"

Renjun frowns. “Are you okay?”

No. But yeah. “Me? Yeah, of course. I mean... this is beautiful math right here. Just beautiful.”

“I don’t care about the algorithm, Jeno.” Rude, but Renjun clearly didn't intend it to be which is made clear by his follow up. “You seem... off. Hurt? I don’t really know. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just... distracted.” Jeno has to look back to his notebook and slide back into his hidey-hole of math and machines instead of meet Renjun’s gaze. “How’s your new recruit?”

“Our new recruit is just what we needed.” He admits, no true emphasis on ‘our’ but it hits Jeno like a cannonball. “Offline resources are paramount at this point and Yangyang just seems to _have_ them. But when I recharge, when things settle... I'll need you more than ever.”

“For what?” Jeno snarks.

Renjun notices the attitude but doesn't understand it, knitting his brows together in concern. “Everything. For starters, if it’s anything but a powerpack we will need to reconfigure the new source to fit my parameters—the batteries at SECTORm were designed around me so we can be sure any other source will need some serious restructuring at every level. Do you think Yangyang can do that?” 

Despite how buoyant this leaves his heart Jeno can’t quite shake his bad mood. “I don’t know, he’d probably pick up electromagnetic mechanics in a heartbeat.”

“Doubtful. Liu Yangyang will get us where we need to go—” That striking ‘we’ again. “—but nothing can happen without you. He’s useful, yes, but you're my lifeline."

Wouldn’t it be funny if Jeno’s heart exploded? Just right here, immediate death brought about by the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to him. He opens his mouth to say something (he’s not sure what) but Yangyang interrupts this moment from his place at the whiteboards. 

“Shut the fuck up for a second...” He mutters, quiet and sharp. Jeno has never heard him speak like this and understands inherently that he has to listen. Yangyang turns to them with his eyes closed and head tilted slightly, lacking any hint of his trademark amusement. 

A long two seconds pass in silence before both Yangyang and Renjun look up in unison, the cyborg's eyes quickly taking on their silver glow in order to see through the ceiling to the roof—Jeno’s roof. Yangyang can’t possibly see or hear as well as Renjun but the fact that he was first to notice whatever this is speaks to a staggeringly well-honed situational awareness. 

“What’s your count?” Yangyang asks Renjun, already halfway towards his vault. 

“7 above—” Renjun drags his scan from the ceiling to the floor, frowning. “—4 below. Private military company.”

“Military... _?”_ Jeno mutters under his breath.

“A ten-strong kidnap squad, plus a lead." Renjun explains. "I knew they would find me eventually but not this quickly."

“Nothing to do but react, then.” Yangyang mutters solemnly. “I assume you can kick the shit out of any regular meat human you come across?”

“I’m at 27% charge and have to protect Jeno, so no, I cannot take down an entire SWAT team right now.” Renjun turns to Yangyang now quickly spinning the dial lock on the vault, eyes still in their Silver Scan. “For some reason I can’t see through your vault, please tell me you have—”

Yangyang throws the heavy door open before he can finish, revealing an entire weapons locker stocked with gadgets, knives, two guns and one kevlar vest, all of it looking like it had been plucked straight from the future. 

“—lethal weapons...” Renjun drops off, his eyes bugging as he takes in Yangyang’s extensive and very illegal collection. “Who _are_ you?”

“A bit of a badass, admittedly. But it’s more who I work for.” Yangyang explains distractedly, plucking out a technologically bonkers pump-action shotgun and loading it with practiced ease. “Knives or guns?”

“Knives.” 

Finally Jeno can hear it, the light shuffling of footfalls on the roof and the muted buzzing of a closed-circuit radio. As he watches Yangyang throw a belt of knives at Renjun all the information slams together at once, bringing the situation into screaming relief.

They’re under attack by highly trained operatives, Renjun prefers melee weapons, Yangyang is packing serious heat, and Jeno is completely useless.

It really was fun for a bit. They had a day of peace discovering the most amazing things in the world, drinking coffee, playing with Serif. Reality sets in and Jeno realizes they probably shouldn’t have even gotten that. He tries to hold on to the images of Renjun rubbing the carpet until it caught fire but the memory of the bloody cyborg on his doorstep quickly takes precedence. This is not safe. It never was, Jeno was a fucking idiot for pretending it was and now he’s going to die. 

“Catch, nerd.” Yangyang calls to Jeno, tossing the bulletproof vest across the room at him. “And before you ask, I am not giving you a gun.”

“Smart.” Renjun and Jeno admit together. In another world it could have been a sweet moment but instead Jeno's entire focus is dedicated to putting on the kevlar. Eventually he wiggles into the body armor, straps it in place, and slips on a black hoodie to cover it.

Everything moves too fast for Jeno, or maybe too slow. If ever there were a time to have an out-of-body moment, this is _so_ not it so he forces himself to focus despite having nothing else to focus on but the bricks of terror that have replaced his internal organs. Jeno is going to die. He’s going to die in possession of the most important technological breakthrough of the modern age—a cause he was already devoting his life to.

Devote his life to, but not die for. Three days ago the AIA algorithm would have been worth that to Jeno, but he was thinking more along the lines of dying from old age in the noble pursuit of science. Not _this._ The next thing he can focus on is Renjun dexterously spinning two long-bladed knives in his hands as if he were born to do it. The military-grade knife belt hangs diagonally across his torso like a bandolier, completely mismatched with Jeno’s oversized clothes and his perpetually bare feet. 

No, the algo isn’t worth dying for, but Renjun might be. Not the miracle of his creation or his better-than-state-of-the-art artificial body either. Renjun, the person.

This thought is enough to shake him from his shock and once clear of that static the facts of the scene piece themselves together. With his newfound clarity, Jeno realizes something the others have not. 

“Wait. Guys, wait.”

Yangyang turns to Jeno with his brows raised, fastening a harness scabbard around his back and slipping an everyday aluminum baseball bat into it like some mythic sword. “There must be a better time for this than right the fuck now, because I’m pretty sure—” 

“Just listen to me!” Jeno bursts out, a rare enough occurrence for both Renjun and Yangyang to give him their immediate attention. “I don’t... yeah, I don’t think they know we’re here.”

“Well they’re here, so they very clearly do.” Yangyang deadpans, now back to inspecting the weapons locker. He and Renjun move quickly but calmly, reminding Jeno he must try to do the same. Renjun’s sangfroid makes sense but the ice now flowing through Yangyang’s veins is nothing short of remarkable.

“Not _here_ here!” Jeno points down at the floor, indicating Yangyang’s apartment. 

Renjun takes a few steps towards him. “What do you mean, Jeno?”

“I... okay.” Jeno takes a moment they don’t have to organize his thoughts. “They could have found you through two outlets, right? You and-slash-or me. They could be tracking you through public surveillance or something in your body or some clue you left behind. That or you left no trace and they somehow predicted you were coming to find me or at least people _like_ me. Scouting me out could have happened by process of elimination of all the nerds in this city, I don’t know.”

Renjun has been nodding this whole time, that’s a good sign. “Go on.”

“My point is they found you through you or me. _Not_ through Yangyang!”

“Holy shit.” Yangyang breathes, looking up to the ceiling in awe. “They’re going for your apartment, first at least. That gives us time to bolt.”

“Bolt where?” Jeno gestures meekly from the ceiling to the floor.

“Fire escape, duh.” Yangyang jogs over to the two of them, nodding at a wide window. “Jeno, I can't leave you empty handed. Take this little lady, she’ll keep you safe. Ish.”

What he hands Jeno is an expandable stun baton. He practices flipping it out once and flinches when he does it perfectly on the first try. Jeno then tests the stun part and flinches again when it shocks with more force and noise than he anticipated. After collapsing it completely Jeno flicks it out again with a satisfied nod. 

The tactical baton is better than nothing but now all he has to bring to a gunfight is an electric stick. It makes sense though: a baby has to take its first steps before it can be given its first grenade.

Chalk it up to the adrenaline and caffeine piloting his body but suddenly Jeno can hear everything, especially the sudden series of slams of metal on metal: the troops hurling a battering ram against his door on the roof. The grunts soon burst through and a single shout proceeds a ringing blast powerful enough to be felt one floor below.

“Oh, that's some bonkers Flashbang tech. They are definitely not fucking around.” Yangyang mutters. “Jeno, get to the window.” 

He speeds towards it and inches it open wide, letting in the sounds of clipped shouts from the roof and then a sudden inexplicable silence. Cold winter air blasts his face and Jeno turns back to see Yangyang now at his front door standing on tip-toes to reach the upper corners of the door frame, gently planting small silver spheres that attach with a mechanical whirl. Very quickly he has four more attached to the door frame; two on the bottom corners and two more in the middle. 

“Proximity mines?” Renjun nods appreciatively as he takes his silver-eyed scan of Yangyang’s work. “And just as next-gen as the rest of your collection. You and I are going to have a chat when this is over, be sure of that.”

“Gotta not die first though.” Yangyang forces a laugh, having the sense to grab Jeno’s shoes and throw them over to him at the window. Because Yangyang will always look out for him (even in the midst of a dire crisis, apparently) he follows the shoes with a pair of leather gloves and a black hat to help stave off the cold. He’d probably lob some hand-warmers at Jeno if they had the time.

Renjun looks through the walls again and reports, “Two hostiles ascending the staircase, one in the elevator, one guarding the entrance. They’re clearing the building floor by floor while the main team raids up top, which means our grace period has just about run its course. Jeno, out the window, now.” 

There’s a single moment of pure confusion before Renjun doubles down. “Now!”

The shoes and gloves are important but apart from that Jeno is only wearing a bulletproof vest under a hoodie and jeans and the last time he checked the temperature it had dropped below -10 degrees C. It’s not snowing yet but the wind blows strong enough to carve through the snow collected on the rooftops and powerlines to create violent eddies of ice crystals. All in all, completely unappealing weather to be fleeing down a rusted fire escape but it’s either ice or probable death, so. 

After collapsing his stun baton and clipping it to his belt loop Jeno wiggles through the window, ignoring the cold as he gingerly steps down onto the fire escape platform. The entire staircase rattles and wobbles under his feet and he grabs the railing tightly to steady himself. When Jeno can finally hear over his pounding heartbeat he catches a bitter command issued by someone on the roof:

_“Well you just have to FIND HIM then, don’t you? I don't think you want to know what happens to you if you don’t...”_

Gleeful venom scorches through his words, probably as acerbic to his own troops as it is to Jeno’s ears. Fear shatters his resolve like a hammer through ice and he turns to look back into Yangyang’s apartment, mouth open and ready urge them to get the fuck out of there. They need to put as many kilometers between Renjun and that monster on the roof as possible.

Yangyang is next through the window, making far less noise than Jeno as he maneuvers through which leaves Renjun alone in the apartment, still facing the booby-trapped door.

“This is the last room to be cleared, I reckon we have about five seconds until they open the door and trip the mines.” Renjun whispers, turning back to them with eyes wilder than Jeno has ever seen outside of their Red Mode. “Yangyang, lead Jeno down the escape, quick instead of quiet. Go!”

Quickly saluting Renjun, Yangyang grabs Jeno by the arm and starts to pull him around towards first flight of stairs. Jeno looks back in panic to see Renjun slip through the window like silk and shut it behind him. Once through he catches Jeno’s eye and mouths a desperate, _‘GO!’_

Renjun has barely taken a step when Yangyang’s door trap goes off with a ringing blast, shattering all the windows in the apartment. He takes the full brunt of the glass as one might a flurry of snowflakes but one step down the fire escape stairs, Jeno and Yangyang aren’t so lucky. A corner of razor shards from another window fly towards him and in the same moment Yangyang twists them around in order to shield Jeno from the glass. His ears ring terribly from the blast and he shakes his head to clear it.

“GO!” Yangyang shoves Jeno down the stairs, sounding like he's shouting from underwater. “For fuck’s sake, I should be the one with the kevlar!”

Jeno barely hears him over the ringing in his ears and looks at his feet for balance as he stumbles down the stairs. After what feels like a single heartbeat of slipping and sliding he makes it to the drop-off point on the second story, almost running completely off the edge. Barely a breath behind him Yangyang tugs Jeno back by his hood with a small shout. 

“Where’s Renjun?” Jeno asks much louder than he intended to, looking up with a frown before looking down at the icy pavement below. 

“He can handle himself, come on.” Yangyang crouches down and lithely rolls off the platform, grabbing the edges before gently lowering his body to get as close to the ground as possible. “Don’t you dare try to make that jump from up there. Just do what I’m doing, quickly, quickly!”

Torn between concern for Renjun and the difficulty of the feat before him, Jeno freezes, finally losing himself to vertigo. “I...”

With a rough growl, Yangyang steadies his swinging body and lets go of the fire escape before his hands can fail him, falling lightly to the ground. Despite his skillful dismount pain shoots through his face. “You have to jump. I know you’re a fucking nerd but you are _not a coward._ Renjun is following right behind you.”

Literally. Jeno turns fully around to see Renjun standing behind him with bits of glass in his hair and torn clothes. “Grit your teeth.”

“Grit my—” His knee-jerk response is abruptly cut off when Renjun glides forward and slings him over his shoulder like a sack of rice. In the same movement he leaps from the platform and lands on the ground heavily, cracking the pavement beneath his bare feet. Jeno doesn’t heed the warning to grit his teeth and ends up biting his tongue sharply on impact. 

Anatomy Lesson #14: Renjun weighs more than his size suggests. A lot more.

Hanging over the cyborg’s shoulder, Jeno can still see the apartment building and frowns when he sees a man in a long black coat standing easily on the edge of the roof. For some reason Jeno knows he’s staring right at them.

Renjun streaks ahead and rounds a corner with Yangyang limping slightly behind them. “Where’s your car, Yangyang?”

“A few blocks south. Black sedan with a license plate spoofer and grey cat bobblehead on dashboard.”

Still slung over Renjun’s shoulder, Jeno can’t help but laugh amidst the absurdity because he happens to be the one who gave Yangyang that bobblehead—a long-haired grey cat that looks startlingly like Serif.

Oh. Fuck.

“Serif.” Jeno breathes.

Renjun slides to a neat halt and gently lifts him off his shoulder. “What?”

“We left Serif.” His cat. They left his cat. They can’t go back but they left her behind. Serif must have gotten caught in the flashbang tossed in Jeno’s apartment, she could be dead but the point is Jeno left her behind. 

“Your _cat?_ ” Yangyang exclaims, shotgun in hand. “We’re being hunted and you’re worrying about your cat?!”

“Enough.” Renjun raises a single hand without even looking at Yangyang. His eyes are on Jeno’s alone, deep and searching. He nods once. “You two get to the car, I’ll get Serif.”

Yes— _wait._ No. That’s suicide. Renjun—the center of everything—going back for his cat? It cannot happen, Renjun is too important. Once again Jeno is tugged in two directions but he isn’t going to freeze through this one. “W-what? No. You can’t.”

“Absolutely fucking not.” Yangyang shakes his head strongly. 

“And you think either of you can _stop_ me? Please.” Renjun raises an eyebrow with a forced chortle. “Get to the car and don’t come for me—I’ll find you. Concentrate on getting out.”

Wait.

Renjun catches Jeno's eyes for a moment that feels much longer, communicating something that he doesn’t understand but still makes his heart stop dead. A long moment in which Jeno realizes this might be the last time he ever sees Renjun again. This could be it, the end of all this—the very thought cuts deeper than it should.

Without another word Renjun blinks away, reappearing briefly 10 meters away only to pivot on his heel and turn back into the alley they just escaped. 

No.

“W-wait...” Jeno lowers the hand he subconsciously raised after him. “RENJUN!”

Yangyang’s vise grip on his arm brings him back to the present and has him running in the opposite direction. “What an asshole, leaving us to just trust and believe in him like that!”

“I didn’t ask him to.” Jeno growls, breaking out into a steady run to follow.

“You puppy-eyed him! You just puppy-eyed a cyborg!”

“I did not!”

“Even a bat could see that quivering lip of yours and bats are _blind_.”

Yangyang cuts across the street towards a narrow flea market, still toting a baseball bat, shotgun, and grenade belt in plain view of the public. Amazingly he solves that problem with his first move into the market by stealing a large yellow tote-bag from one of the stands and slipping his weaponry inside. Illegal, sure, but very well done. 

Without another thought Jeno darts after him and follows as closely as he can what with Yangyang being incredibly adept at dipping and dodging through the masses. He’s even going so far as to greet shop owners while just as fluidly plucking a wallet from the pocket of an unwary businessman. They come to a crashing halt with about a fourth of the alley to go and then Yangyang pulls him into a narrow gap between two souvenir stands. The path leads to a wide food alley with primarily foreign restaurants. 

“It’s the German restaurant on the corner there.” Yangyang pants, slowing their rush to appear normal and catch their breath. “The owner doesn’t drive so she trades her parking spot for German lessons.”

“That _you_ teach _her?_ ”

Jeno didn’t know this kind of international eat-street even existed, let alone in his backyard. They enter the restaurant dramatically, still breathless. There aren’t many customers which is probably for the best considering they’re quickly greeted by a screech from a portly middle-aged woman pointing a short broom at them.

 _“Ya! Ist das mein kleine Yangyang?!”_ She asks excitedly, now waving with the broom welcomingly as she strides forward to greet them.

 _“Ja vol, oma.”_ Yangyang smiles brilliantly, surreptitiously handing Jeno his big bag of weapons. He only spoke three words but his German is leagues more fluent than hers. 

Jeno has no idea what’s happening but he’s starting to get used to the perpetual ambiguity of their situation and tries to make like Yangyang and keep his composure.

 _“Willcommen zurück, mein liebchen!”_ Her eyes flick to Jeno before going back to Yangyang. “ _Bist du für dein Auto zurückgekommen?”_

_“Ja, wir sind in Eile.”_

The German-speaking Korean restaurant owner nods sweetly, quickly ushering the pair of them behind the front of house and through the kitchen but not following. _“Das Glück, liebling.”_

_“Danke, oma.”_

“... German? _”_ Jeno asks as they fly out the back into a small gravel lot and jog towards a sleek black car.

 _“Ja.”_ Yangyang tosses his gun bag in the backseat is behind the wheel in a moment, starting the car and reversing out of the lot before Jeno can even shut his door properly.

“Care to explain?”

“ _Ich bin in Deutschland geboren.”_ Yangyang responds conversationally, peering over his shoulder and skillfully one-hand reversing out of the lot. “Don’t worry buddy, once we get out of this bear trap I’ll tell you all about my cute Taiwanese-German butt. Put your seat belt on.”

After quick and precise maneuvering out of the lot Yangyang takes off immediately, driving double the speed limit onto a wide, 4-lane street. Jeno puts a hand on his painfully beating heart, still catching his breath. “Okay, holy shit, okay. So now what?”

Yangyang chews at the inside of his mouth with hawk-eyed focus on the road as he shifts two lanes at once and then weaves into another in order to get to another turn off into a more residential area. “Don’t ask me, you’re the smart one!”

“Who decided that?!” Jeno cries, shaking his head. “Whatever, we have to turn back around.”

“ _Excuse me?”_ Yangyang bellows but immediately does as Jeno says. Using the E-brake to flip the tail of the car around, he burns an arc of rubber to have them come to a quick stop pointing in the opposite direction, stopping the car entirely. “Explain, _Bruderherz.”_

“We just... have to go back for him, Yangyang.” Jeno explains helplessly. “He’s too important. And then there was that very scary guy on the roof? I just don’t like this. We have to go back.”

Yangyang sighs in exasperation. “So your rose-tinted plan is to do exactly what he told us not to?”

“100%.”

After another long sigh Yangyang drums a beat on the wheel before putting the car back into gear, now driving back towards the danger. “I gotta say, I never thought I’d die being your wingman.”

Jeno looks at him blankly. “I mean, I’m in the shotgun seat so technically I’m _your_ wing _—_ ”

“Renjun, buddy. I’m talking about that cute cyborg you seem to have married.”

He scoffs. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I just call it as I see it.”

After a few blocks Yangyang takes a left into a clear alley and cruises to the middle of it before bringing the car to a gentle halt and keeping it running. If Jeno sticks his head out of the sunroof he could see a corner of the building they just escaped. It’s a good spot to get their bearings.

“I gotta say...” Yangyang picks their conversation back up. “When I first met him I thought Renjun had dead eyes—the soulless machines I suppose they technically are.”

“Are you actively trying to be an asshole right now?” Jeno turns to him in irritation but Yangyang continues talking over him. 

“So imagine my surprise each and every single time his shark eyes light up like fucking daybreak when he looks at you. I see it _all the time_ and I’m still blown away when it happens. How human he seems.”

“How human he _is.”_ Jeno corrects. 

“Exactly. Which means your crush on him is totally not weird, at all!” Yangyang says as if this is news to celebrate. “And honestly if the poor guy hadn’t grown up in a subterranean laboratory-slash-assassin boot camp, maybe he’d better understand these concepts of love and affection—but he doesn’t. That’s on you, my meat friend.”

“Please drop it.” Jeno begs, running his hands down his face. 

“Oh please, I’ll drop it when you admit it.” 

“I don’t even know if I’ll ever _see_ him again.” Jeno keeps his hands on his face. 

“Jen.” Yangyang says suddenly. “Jeno. Oh shit, looklooklook!”

Jeno spreads the fingers over his eyes so he can see through them. “What—oh!”

Serif has just run around the corner into the alley, eyes wild and fur puffed up in alarm as she scampers towards them. Jeno wastes no time springing from the car and is about to bellow in joy when he hears satisfied whistling from where Serif runs from. 

His insides vanish entirely. There’s something familiar about the cadence of the whistling even though he has never heard it before. Something cruel and patient, like the orders from the guy on the roof. It’s him, it has to be. Jeno has no proof except for an identical reaction to this as his voice: dread. Sheer dread that freezes him to his core.

A moment later a young man strides lazily into view wearing a black, swallow-tailed trench coat and heavy black riding boots. He turns and looks right at Jeno, shifting his dark blonde hair to reveal most of a beautiful face. 

Most of. His left eye and a fourth of his face is heavily cybernetic, but not in the same way as their resident cyborg. This guy has mechanical implants in his meat body while Renjun implanted his brain and upper spine into a metal body. Anatomy Lesson #7: there’s a difference. 

He keeps walking on by, whistling, lugging a broken, sparking Renjun behind him like trash.

Wait. What?

Metal drags heavily, sparking against concrete as the half-cyborg pulls Renjun by one bare ankle, the other leg broken and twisted back on itself. 

This is Renjun. Their ace, their superpower, their new god broken before his eyes, thoroughly defeated in under ten minutes. Jeno’s heart shatters, sending him staggering sideways into the alley wall, unable to peel his eyes from the impossible sight. 

“Oh! Are you Lee Jeno?” Cries the victor, sweetly tilting his head and waving a gunmetal cybernetic hand made of the same technology as his eye. 

If you can even call it an eye. It zooms in and out at Jeno more like a camera than anything, the huge iris as dark as a photo lens and outlined in a thin circle of gold. The rough scar tissue where the implant plates attached to his skin take absolutely nothing away from his beauty. Not even the malevolence in his gaze can tarnish that. 

Yangyang twists his head to gape at him from inside the car and Jeno points at himself just as dumbly. 

“Founder, President, Treasurer, _and_ Secretary of the Speculative Cybernetics Organization at the Korean Institute for Advanced Study?” The half-cyborg clarifies, coming to a stop on the sidewalk. 

“Let them go... please, Helios.” Renjun begs with obvious mechanical struggle, everything but his face more motionless than a ragdoll. “They didn’t do anything. You know that.”

The half-cyborg, Helios, looks down at Renjun with a dull laugh. “Of course I know that. You and I know better than anyone how little innocence matters.”

Jeno’s mind spins to remember the weaknesses of Renjun’s artificial body—the spinal cord electrics, or maybe something disrupting the communication between his brain and his body? He is talking though, his face is moving. What could possibly paralyze Renjun below the neck? It’s much easier to diagnose and strategize fixing him than face the facts before him.

“Tell you what, I’ll let the cat go.” Helios trills. 

“Please. You already have me... please, Hyuc—”

“You _do not_ get to call me that.” He spits down at Renjun, breaking his ankle at the joint with a sneer. There’s no pain in Renjun’s face from the injury but Jeno flinches at the snap of synthetic bone. 

“Let him go!” He cries, desperate to stay in the game. 

“Who, the mighty Eos?” The half-cyborg raises Renjun into the air by his ankle and shakes him as though trying to get at any loose coins in his pockets. Two small knives clatter to the concrete, as does the antenna he used as a pointer for War Room 1.0. 

“LET HIM GO!”

“JENO!” Renjun bellows. “Just get out of here! Both of you, _go!_ ”

Jeno stays put. So does Yangyang. 

Helios easily tosses Renjun’s heavy body to the side in a heap before dusting off his hands—one metal, one meat—and focusing that eerie eye back on Jeno. “As it turns out, the Good Doctor sent me to grab both of you: his prodigal son and the boyfriend. No mention of the spare, though I must admit I want to let him live for that wicked booby trap alone—”

That’s when ‘the spare’ goes pedal to the floor in a raw, turbocharged roar and hits Helios squarely with his car, the impact sending him tumbling out into the street. Yangyang continues his assault via car with a guttural shout, hitting the half-cyborg again as he tries to get up, then reversing, then ramming him again with a loud, prolonged screech of burning tires. 

After a heartbeat of admiring how fucking cool Yangyang is Jeno rushes to collect Serif, tossing her in the backseat before skinning his knees falling to Renjun’s side. He can hear whirring and mechanical wheezing from Renjun’s body and cradles his head, unsure if he wants to baby him or give him a mechanical diagnostic. They don’t have time for either.

Jeno shakes Renjun by his shoulders. “You okay!? Hey, hey, talk to me.”

“Not okay.” Renjun mutters, the light of his eyes dim but still very human. “But fixable.”

Yangyang continues to slam and pin Helios with his car, but that won’t last long. 

Somehow Jeno manages to sling one of Renjun’s arms over his shoulder and heave him up against the wall, using his weight to hold the cyborg there instead of actually lifting him with his strength. Renjun is _heavy_. “Yangyang—help, help me get him in the car!”

“On it!” Yangyang shouts, going for one more run over the half-cyborg before hopping out of the car to help wrangle Renjun’s unresponsive body into the back seat. Adrenaline lends them strength and soon Jeno is in the back with Renjun, Yangyang is behind the wheel again, and Serif rides shotgun. 

“Okay, time to use one of these babies.” Yangyang reaches into his belt for a grenade and presses a series of buttons to arm it.

Helios staggers to his feet, dusting off his jacket with an amused grin. “Not bad, bu—”

Then Yangyang makes like a total badass and rams him once more before leaning out of his window and rolling the timed grenade over the car hood. In another heartbeat he’s back in the car, easily reversing them back through the alley.

Before they turn the corner Jeno and Yangyang (and Serif) watch in silent awe as the grenade detonates right next to Helios with a wide-radius blast of poppy-colored light. Yangyang reverse-swings out of the alley and soon they’re on their merry, terrified way. 

What a shit show.

Once they’re safe (here meaning in slightly less danger) Jeno rearranges Renjun’s deadened limbs and drags his head onto his lap. There isn’t much superficial damage to inspect but there’s surely some issue inside. On top of whatever KO’ed him, Renjun was at 27% charge when they escaped and factoring in the probability of him activating the red-eyed Kill Mode when facing that guy, it’s very likely he’s sputtering at around 17%, no plus but definitely minus 5%.

It's pretty damn clear they should _not_ have won that. Technically they didn’t win, they didn’t tie, they merely survived. Barely.

“Hey there, floppy.” Jeno mutters down at him and tries to make him smile by taking Renjun by the wrist and flopping his hand in a sad approximation of a wave. 

Renjun rolls his eyes, comically animated compared to the rest of his body. “Hey yourself.”

Silence falls. Jeno watches Yangyang gingerly reach for the radio dials before thinking better of it and returning his hand to the stick shift. “So. Who the hell was that?”

“Helios.” Renjun responds quietly, looking out the window. “My brother.”

“Of course he’s your brother.” Yangyang mutters under his breath. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

“Not by blood. Only three subjects survived long enough to reach the point when heavy cybernetic implantation and testing could actually begin. We were given the monikers Selene, Eos, and Helios.” 

Yangyang laughs hollowly. “Okay _Eos,_ so you're saying there are three of you?”

“Please don’t call me that. And there were three. We lost one.”

By process of elimination, they lost Selene. Given his partial meat body, Helios must have survived the experiments up until a point before proving ultimately incompatible with full-body cybernetization. That leaves Renjun—Eos—as the only true success. 

“Two runs through the PowerPoint and you never mentioned them...” Jeno joins in tentatively. Renjun thoroughly schooled him on Project Hyperion but his explanation led Jeno to believe he had been the only child involved.

“I did not think it was necessary at the time.” Renjun admits. “But I’m sorry for withholding information.”

Yangyang scoffs. “Oh, okay. So nothing about you risking _everything_ just to grab Jeno’s cat?” 

“I’ll never apologize for that.” Renjun gives Jeno a wonky grin. 

Jeno can’t help but smile right back at him. “Fine. But if you ever do anything like this again I’ll... I’ll hack you!” 

Renjun’s brow shoots up into his bangs incredulously.

“Oh, you think I can’t? I’ll hack your body down to the _kernel.”_

“Gross, Jeno.” Yangyang chuckles from the driver’s seat. “I don’t know what that means, but gross.”

“It's a... you know? Like OS kernels? Ugh, never mind. Nerd joke.” Jeno looks at Renjun still raising his eyebrows at him. “The cyborg doesn’t get it either.”

“I think you need better friends, Jeno.” The casual way Yangyang drives them out of the neighborhood and quickly onto a highway system betrays the horror they escaped. “People who understand your tech-talk gobbledegook.” 

“Nah, I like you guys.” Jeno mutters shyly. 

Renjun gives him a wilted grin. “Good.”

“Good, yes. But we’ll find a kindred spirit soon.” Yangyang assures. “I know a guy.”

“Who?” Renjun asks simply, trying to avoid exacerbating the damage to his vocal cords.

“My boss. Just an extremely wealthy, behemoth-class mech head who I’m about, uh, let’s say 85% certain will grant us safe haven.”

“Can he fix Renjun? Can he help us find a charging point? How off the grid is he?” Jeno fires off one question after the other, staring at the back of Yangyang’s head as he digs in his glove compartment for a burner phone and presses a number on speed dial. 

“Chill, buddy. He's so off the grid he might as well be in a different dimension.” Yangyang holds the phone to his ear as he drives, probably the least dangerous thing he’s done today. 

Jeno hears three muffled rings before someone picks up and mutters something in a deep baritone he doesn’t catch. 

“Hey so bef—yeah. Duh.” Yangyang rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay, you know what? I _told_ you Father Song was a bad egg. Dude was unsavory as hell, like, definitely diddied some kiddies.” 

The man on the other end laughs loudly before dropping back into that low tone.

“Yes, my fucking Spidey Sense, call it what you want but you don’t get to whine at me the next time you—” A pause. “Wait, he had a peanut gallery? How is that relev—oh, _allergy._ Peanut _allergy.”_

In the rear-view mirror Jeno can see Yangyang’s face shift from annoyance to begrudging approval as his employer explains. “Huh. So... huh. That’s good, I hear death by nut is agony.” 

“Yangyang, can we...? You know...?” Jeno tries despite being hooked by the one side he hears of this story.

Nodding, Yangyang puts the phone on speaker and they catch the tail end of the man’s next line. _“—got me thinking about it: weaponized allergies! Dip a dart into some peanut butter or, or just shoot bees at people, you know?”_

“Seems more like a made-to-order offering... easy to market, tough to scale—but, uh, not the point. Happy for nut death but that’s definitely not why I called.”

_“Oho, do tell.”_

“You know Jeno’s one night stand that I told you about?” Yangyang starts, shrugging apologetically at Jeno through the rear view mirror. 

_“Oh yeah, super proud. He was cute too, right?”_

“Yeah, very. But turns out it _wasn’t_ a one night stand and he is actually—get this—a full-body cyborg! He’s a little wrecked right now, I have glass in my skin, Jeno’s fine, and we saved the cat. We have also very likely acquired a body count.”

_“Mm’k, not what I thought you were going to say.”_

“We also just got our asses handed to us.” Yangyang turns to Jeno for a second before looking back to the road. “I think that’s a fair assessment, right?”

“Very fair.” Jeno nods sullenly, causing Renjun to roll his eyes.

_“Oh! Is that Jeno? Hello there! Great to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much.”_

“Thank... you?”

“Hey Nana, I hate to ask, but—”

_“May you and your little friends have a sleepover at my place tonight, most likely bringing the full force of the Korean government right to my door?”_

“Technically it’s the guys your government hires to do their dark and dirty.”

 _“Well that’s much, much worse but who am I to deny you anything,_ _Yaya_ _? When should I be expecting you?”_

“Right now. Like _right now.”_ Jeno urges. 

_“I dig the energy, Mr. President-Secretary-Treasurer, sir. Believe me when I say I’d have joined your Speculative Cybernetics Organization in a heartbeat if I ever went to college.”_

Seriously? “Why does _everyone_ know about that!?”

“It’s cute.” Renjun responds at the same time Yangyang says, “It speaks for itself.”

Jeno twists his lips and looks away, his ears red. 

“Hello... Nana?” Renjun asks tentatively, still snuggled in with Jeno. 

_“A new voice! Might you be the troublemaker himself?”_

“My name is Renjun and... actually, troublemaker is pretty apt. I already dragged these fools into my hell so watch out, you’re next on the list.”

_“I’m positively QUIVERING.”_

Yangyang laughs lamely. “Okay we’ve been talking too long, expect us in under half an hour.”

_“Will do. Pleased to meet you both and rest assured I’ll have snacks ready when you arrive. Nana out~!”_

After Nana hangs up Serif hops into the backseat with Jeno and Renjun, decidedly less puffed out in fright. She sniffs at a deep slash of exposed wiring and musculature on Renjun’s neck that Jeno didn’t notice before, the place of the carotid artery on a meat human.

“You really shouldn’t have gone after her, Renjun.” Jeno whispers down at him.

“I know.”

“She’s a cat. And you were almost... _had_ because you went after her...” Jeno is happy that Yangyang had enough sense to turn on the radio—the police channel, sure, but any noise allows Jeno to whisper stupid somethings in Renjun’s ears and pretend it’s private. “Please, _please_ don’t do anything like that again.”

Renjun shakes his head sharply. 

“Promise me, Renjun.” 

“I can’t promise that.” Renjun shakes his head again, eyes darting away. 

Jeno doesn’t try again, and stubbornly looks out the window while petting Serif on his lap. Soon he realizes he’s running his hands through Renjun’s hair instead of hers but he doesn’t stop.

Nor does Renjun ask him to.

“So where’s this lair you’re taking us to?” Jeno asks eventually, realizing he’s never been to the neighborhood Yangyang is now driving through. Ritzy hotels and apartments, glass buildings, all of it uncomfortably luxe.

“It’s not a lair.”

Jeno and Renjun let the silence linger before Yangyang breaks.

“Okay, it’s _totally_ a lair but believe me, Na Jaemin is no villain. Oh no. In fact, I’d wager he has one of the more reputable moral compasses in this entire time zone. Believe me when I say the rest of us do not get to say the same.” 

“Na Jaemin...” Renjun knows that name. “As in Na Jaemin, the 11th most wanted criminal in South Korea?”

“7th now, actually. He’s quite pleased with himself.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone is trying to one shot this, more power to ya, but please drink water maybe. this is a pretty good intermission spot
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)


	6. Chapter 6

W A N T E D 

NA JAEMIN

Treason - Piracy - Racketeering - Tax Evasion - Theft - Jaywalking

Known Aliases: Nana, Kim Jungwoo, The White Rabbit, Lee Sooman

Past Associations: Unicef, World Scout Foundation, Goodwill

DESCRIPTION 

Date of Birth: N/A

Place of Birth: N/A

Height: 174 cm

Weight: 60 kg

Nationality: Korean 

Hair: N/A

Eyes: N/A

Gender: N/A

Race: Korean

Languages: Korean, English, Thai

REMARKS 

As Na has a penchant for elaborate disguises and pastel or otherwise light-colored dyed hair, visual recognition may be difficult

CAUTION 

Armed, Severe flight risk, non-violent tendencies, handsome, goofy

REWARD 

The Republic of Korea is offering ₩6,000,000 for information leading directly to the arrest of Na Jaemin

  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

It turns out that the 7th most wanted man in South Korea did in fact prepare snacks for their arrival, as well as a truly spectacular War Room 3.0. 

Where there were once whiteboards and his hand-drawn images, now there are holographic panels of different sizes and colors, all controlled by voice and gesture. It’s much better holotech than anything Renjun has ever seen at SECTORm, which is saying something. On these displays is everything he ever told Jeno and even more somehow, strange because Renjun hasn't even gone through his PowerPoint yet. Na Jaemin somehow has access to official Project Hyperion resources and information, everything from staff lists to original, unredacted documents. Everything but the AIA algorithm. 

That belongs to Jeno now.

Snacks and information—so much information—but no sign of their host. Jeno and Yangyang eat busily from the spread of food against the side of the wall while Renjun frowns deeply, sitting paralyzed in a hover-wheelchair that was waiting for them in the private lift to Jaemin’s floor. How does this man have all this information that even he doesn't? SECTORm is a secret within a secret but apparently the reach of the White Rabbit extends farther than he assumed. 

“I knew I kept that Professor X chair for a reason...” Someone chuckles from behind War Room 3.0. Moments later Na Jaemin walks forward through the holoscreens, hands in his pockets with a soft grin and two adolescent Dobermann dogs at his heels. 

Jaemin does and does not look like his wanted poster. Currently sporting dark auburn hair, the Jaemin before them is older, gaunter, and much taller than reported. This man is certainly taller than 174 centimeters and solid enough to weigh more than 60 kg. 

“And in he strolls! Nice entrance, you fucking thespian.” Yangyang calls through a mouthful of cake, throwing a fork at his boss. Clearly Jaemin is his boss just like Yangyang is Jeno’s landlord—that is to say, technically.

Jaemin avoids this projectile with perfect silkiness and Renjun doesn’t need a scan to recognize him as an Aikido practitioner. “I just wanted to look cool for the Titan of the Dawn.”

Renjun rolls his eyes which he hopes hides his ire at that designation. Also, how does this strange man know about Eos? “You were doing well until you called me that.”

“Renjun it is and will always be, then.” Jaemin agrees diplomatically, taking his sweet time walking over to them. “Welcome to my, or, well, one of my domiciles. I would love to get down to the dirty and talk shop but before that, Yangyang you need like 80 bandages.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Yangyang realizes, wiping his neck with a wince before flinching even harder when he sees the blood on his fingers. 

Yangyang needs to tend to his neck and probably his legs as well after that drop from the fire escape. Renjun often forgets how breakable meatlings are and how much damage they take from something that barely even registers in his senses. No wonder humans invented weapons. 

No wonder they invented him. 

While Yangyang scampers off to find a first aid kit, Jaemin directs his dogs to go play with Jeno, who is quite happy to play his part in that arrangement. They aren’t exactly listening to Jaemin’s commands so much as picking up on his gestures and enthusiasm, and something tells Renjun he does not intend to raise them as guard dogs at all. 

“So! By way of a formal introduction to me and my nonsense, let me give you the pitch.” Jaemin takes his hands from his pockets and rubs them together before clearing his throat. “Ahem. Are you are in need of the latest electromag forcefield technology? Do you want a copy of that proprietary code before the IPO? What about that long lost Van Gogh that just popped up on the black market? I can pull your desire out of thin air—poof!—just like a white rabbit from a top hat.”

He pitches well, with warm, controlled charm and good looks that could easily lull people into trusting him. Renjun still thinks Jeno is more attractive but Na Jaemin is much more aware of his appearance and the effect it has on others. That makes him handsome _and_ dangerous.

“Will I, though?” Jaemin’s smile turns devilish. “Maybe. If you can convince me the item is deserved I’ll get it for you, simple as that. My prices are below street level because of on top of payment for my services, I’ll take something in exchange—A finder’s fee, if you will. It could be your position on a Board of Directors, the pen in your pocket, a seat on the first commercial flight to space, or even your puppies.”

“Puppies?” Renjun raises his eyebrows, eyes flicking back to the young dogs. 

“An unnamed diplomat was mistreating these angels, so I took them away."

“It’s like a trophy... interesting catch for an up-and-coming crime lord.” Jeno comments, finally calming down the dogs enough to rejoin the conversation.

“Nothing wrong with a bit of peculiarity here and there.” Jaemin shrugs with a sneaky smile. “Keeps us on our toes.”

Renjun can admit there’s interesting wisdom to that but he decides not to verbalize it. “So you're confident in your ability to get what we need?”

“Well yeah, considering I was the one to supply SECTORm with your materials and equipment in the first place.” Jaemin says this as though it’s common knowledge, looking over to one of the holoscreens and flipping through some files until he finds an itemized receipt for services rendered years ago. “There it is. Boy, I definitely should have charged much more but you live, you learn.”

Renjun’s body doesn’t lag but his brain certainly does, the inevitable outcome of a collision of his worlds.

He lags long enough for Jeno to speak up. “You’re saying you _work_ for those assholes?”

“Not in the slightest.” Jaemin’s face darkens at the implication. “I’m a neutral 3rd party agent in each transaction. A couple years back they hired me to get, well... you, Renjun. Your parts, equipment, you name it. You don’t even want to know how I got that pretty skin of yours.”

Renjun doesn’t experience many visceral feelings but sometimes they come screaming in like lightning through a cloud. Dread and misplaced betrayal spin through his awareness, more confusing and uncomfortable than anything Renjun has experienced in a while. This man, their current protector and frankly their best shot at survival, contributed to the very Project Hyperion that took every single thing away from him.

Na Jaemin helped ruin his life. 

If Renjun wasn’t paralyzed he would strangle him where he stands. 

The moment of fury passes and rationality quickly settles back in. They need him, and this bygone but preexisting relationship with SECTORm only makes him more useful. Outside of his mind-boggling resources and natural interest in the tech industry, Jaemin’s underground neutrality makes him the best possible ally for a rebellious cyborg and company. Even more so since he has worked with SECTORm before and knows the deeper secrets that the subjects were never privy to. 

Jeno is his partner in this, that is unchangeable, but in retrospect he should probably have sought out someone like Na Jaemin from the start. Renjun hasn’t vetted him but in a sense Yangyang has already done so by trusting Jaemin enough to befriend him. The Serif test is still pending, as any interaction or lack thereof is easily attributed to her recent trauma, so Renjun will have to go with his prosthetic gut on this one. 

They need Jaemin, that much is clear. 

Finally Renjun finds his words. “So you can procure the means to fix and charge me?”

“Baby, I can get a new neck here for you in half an hour.” He assures breezily. “Well, let's say an hour. Maybe two. For safety let's make it three."

“What a fortuitous coincidence, you having connections to the bad guys.” Yangyang deadpans, back with colorful bandages littering his neck. “Your SECTORm shit must have been before my time because I would have _definitely_ advised against it."

"And that's why I keep you around now, Yaya. It was one of my first gigs, ever, so I put in maximum effort. And a blind eye.” He admits before looking to Renjun, his mirth replaced with a quieter depth. 

“Renjun, I can see you’re conflicted and trust me, I understand why you wouldn’t trust me. I wasn’t aware of the scope of Kim Doyoung’s cruelty until much later, but that’s no excuse—there is no excuse. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for my contribution to your suffering.”

Yet another lightning strike bursts through Renjun’s mind at the name. Kim Doyoung, aka Hyperion, aka inventor of the AIA algorithm. His adoptive father. Mental health is not on his list of priorities right now so Renjun has been avoiding the very thought of Doyoung. But now it’s out there— _he_ is out there—and nothing can change that. 

Jeno mouths the name in disbelief, clearly familiar with it, but he holds his tongue when Renjun meets his gaze. Later, he will tell Jeno everything after the world stops spinning and he regains use of his body. The fact that he seemed to recognize the name is perplexing, leaving Yangyang as the only one without some connection to Kim Doyoung. 

Renjun turns to Jaemin and looks him up and down as he might if his eye scan was functioning and eventually nods. “There... was really nothing you could have done. The apology is well met regardless.”

Yangyang whistles, breaking the tension. “Small fucking world, huh. Anyone else afraid we’ve already used up all our collected lives’ luck on this caper?”

“And it’s only just begun.” Jaemin nods, looking Renjun dead in the eyes. “I’m with you Renjun, me and my organization. I’ll be even more use to you than I was to him, free of charge.”

"What about the peculiarity?” Renjun asks with a rough laugh. 

Despite his effortless charm Jaemin is no fluffy white bunny—he is more akin to the magician who pulls the rabbit out of the hat. Misdirection is the most important tool of a magician and Jaemin’s favor trading and trophy gathering certainly fit the bill. 

Jaemin winks, back to bright once more. “Waived.”

Now _that’s_ interesting. Renjun can hardly help raising his eyebrows at him. “Why?”

“Neutrality is overrated.” He waves it off like an insect. “I mean, yes, it’s definitely a grand strategy for surviving this particular world, but it gets so _boring_ , my goodness. Plus our lovely Yangyang here already broke neutrality by throwing his lot in with yours so instead of _firing_ his ass, I’ll do the same.”

“My bad.” Yangyang jokes, socking Jaemin on the shoulder.

“We’re all good?” Jeno claps with a bright grin. “So now we have a criminal concierge, a cyborg, a hacker, and a Yangyang. I’m starting to fear for our enemies. Welcome to the Cyborg Squad!” 

With a huge scoff Jaemin turns to Jeno with a furrowed brow. “Cyborg Squad? Seriously?”

“I’ll grant it’s better than ‘Team Cyborg’.” Renjun admits, not sure if he believes himself. Obviously Jeno’s creativity better translates to mathematics.

Yangyang rolls his eyes. “Barely. Cyborg Squad is at least alliterative so we are seeing some improvement here.” 

“Just a bunch of jerks.” Jeno crosses his arms over his chest with a cute huff.   
  


. . . . . . .

  
  


Jaemin was being hyperbolic about procuring Renjun a whole new neck but he didn't actually need one anyway. The gash that rendered him immobile had been singular and precise—a classic display of Helios quality. 

Growing up pitted together as opponents, the Children of Hyperion quickly learned to develop their natural strengths instead of trying and failing to beat one another at their respective games. Selene had the smallest learning curve and was always one step ahead, Renjun used slow burn strategy and would beat anyone in a long game, and Helios?

Helios is simply a natural born killer. In almost any style of combat, he _will_ win. By all consideration Renjun in this body is much (much) stronger and faster than the half-meat Helios but he has never bested him. Not once. 

What makes him so dangerous is not brute strength but physical awareness and sheer efficiency; it's why it only took one strike to paralyze him so wholly. Even if he didn't already know all of Renjun’s weaknesses, Helios would be able to figure them out within a minute of battle. He is as sly as he is smart and as observant as he is sly. Helios doesn't waste energy with his movements and he uses that leftover strength to control every inch of his body—the meat and the metal. 

In short, no one should want Helios as their enemy, ever. 

Lying face up on one of the many beds in Jaemin’s loft, Renjun looks around at the instruments and informational holos around him and finds that he actually recognizes most of it. Even the specific tools needed to repair the damage to his neck, which by rights should be SECTORm proprietary technology. 

“So according to these schematics... yeah, I need to sever the nervous system, reseal the carotid conduit and basically... just flip the breaker switch again."

Jaemin is his doctor for the day, clad in blue surgical gloves and a white face mask as he gestures through one of the holoscreens and zooms in on Renjun's anatomical diagram. He has taken all of one first aid class and patched together his holosystem from scratch which, sadly, makes Jaemin the most qualified to perform cybernetic surgery. This was unanimously agreed upon. Jeno is simply not ready for this and despite Yangyang’s extremely high level of general competence this is beyond him as well, which left them with the dogs, Serif, or Jaemin.

So, the one with opposable thumbs it is.

“Do I have any reason to believe you can pull this off?" Renjun asks dully, knowing the answer. 

“I’ve seen many slit throats, does that count?” 

“No.”

Renjun wishes Jeno were here. Not just because he needs to learn how to use these tools so he can fix him later but because... 

He just wishes Jeno were here. 

Because gathering the materials for his maintenance ended up taking hours longer than expected, both Jeno and Yangyang are taking the time to clean up and get some of that sleep meatlings need. Luckily Serif is here to serve as their proxy, guarding him from a high perch like a sentinel. 

“For real though? I understand the tech, I have home field advantage, _and_ I have a legion of cute holo-assistants for guidance. We’ll be fi~ine.” Jaemin assures, and for some reason Renjun believes him a little. Not like he has any choice. 

“Disconnection is...” Terrifying. “... a big deal. I’d very much like to wake up from it.”

“You will.”

Renjun’s nervous system must be disconnected from his body for Jaemin to do this surgery and that means severing the Animate-Inanimate barrier. Without that Renjun loses all sensation, all sense of self. Everything that makes him who he is will recoil into darkness until switched back on. Disconnect is a void with no sense of space, time, or identity. 

He fears nothing more.

But this isn’t his first time going ‘under the knife’, so to say. That must be why he wishes Jeno were here right now, either for his to be the last face he sees or the very first upon reconnection. 

He's afraid. But more than that, not being able to say goodbye to Jeno feels like a greater crime than his own increasing body count. 

“Thank you. For everything.” Renjun mutters quickly, stricken with an irrational rush to get some noble last words out, even if they’re not targeted at the person he wants them to be. “Your protection and your assistance.”

“You’re absolutely welcome. I... just...” Jaemin’s composure falters for the first time but not because of the surgery he’s about to perform. For the first time since meeting him, he finally looks his age. Their age.

“What is it?”

Jaemin sighs, almost in irritation. “Like I know I have desperately needed resources and all that but I’m not your hire, okay? No longer neutral. I’m helping you because I can, I want to, and I _should._ Plus, Yangyang always says I need to hang out with people in my own age group and this is a perfect loophole."

Jaemin starts flippant, dives deep, then resurfaces with a splash of comedy—it’s either pure finesse or his natural way of communicating. Which hardly matters at this point because if there’s anything Renjun has learned from this whirlwind with Jeno it’s that trust is a choice, and a choice is powerful.

“I trust you.” Renjun chooses.

Jaemin chortles in a failed attempt to hide how moved he is. “You’ll come back, Renjun, I cannot be responsible for killing the dawn. Plus if you don’t wake up I’m sure our mild-mannered Jeno will slit my throat and feed me to his cat.”

Renjun has grown up around killers his entire life and Jeno is not one. But Jaemin does have a point. “Good luck. Also... please take care of Jeno and Yangyang if... just in case.”

“I will.” 

“And Serif.”

“Serif too.”

Jaemin waits for Renjun to add something else before throwing in, “And... especially Jeno?”

Yes, obviously. Is that wrong? “... just get on with it.” 

“Hey,” Jaemin deftly spins a large laser scalpel around his fingers. “I’m not the one stalling.”

After double-checking the schematics Jaemin nods a few times and takes a deep, calming breath. Once centered, he reaches down to the nape of Renjun’s neck and presses in a pattern that opens up a small flap of skin; the doorway to his metacontrol board. This is the place that houses his off switch and other necessary functions, only accessible manually like this.

In other words, his highest functions are hack-proof. 

Renjun still can’t feel Jaemin’s fingers on his neck when he declares, “Okay I’ve got it. Do you want, like, a countdown? Or?”

“This is dangerous enough as it is. Just flip the fucking switch.” 

...

...

...

...

...!

Even though it is a literal reanimation, there’s nothing particularly dramatic about reconnecting. The process itself is as simple as the disconnection, which is either a shortsighted design or an homage to meatling frailty. Knowing Kim Doyoung, it’s the latter.

“Hot damn, that worked!” Jaemin looks ten years younger, face mask hanging off one ear with eyes like saucers and a dazzling smile as he hovers over him. “Wow, should that have actually worked, though? Doesn't matter." 

Renjun sits up, everything functioning as smoothly as it can at 7% charge. A quick test of his extremities shows everything in good working order and before he realizes it his fingers jump to where the slash had been, now a tough, raised ridge. A scar. He has never had a scar on this body.

“A bit of cosmetic damage, unfortunately.” Jaemin winces. “At least until I can restock what you need.”

Cosmetic damage means nothing to Renjun. “Thank you, Jaemin.” 

“You are very welcome. I wish I could make your neck prettier but your particular brand of skin is hard to come by.”

“I’m okay with a scar.” Anything that defaces Hyperion’s perfect human is fine by Renjun. “It’s very meatling of me.”

“One might say, _meat chic._ ” Jaemin strips off his gloves with a short laugh. “Please tell me there’s nothing else you need fixing, because I’m about to pop open a bottle of something old and dusty and listen to an Alpha Waves playlist alone, in the dark, because what just happened was fucked up. I need to recover.”

“It couldn’t have been as fucked up for you as it was for me. Still, my life was in your hands and Na Jaemin, you delivered.” Renjun nods to him in true respect. “Do you think you can teach this to Jeno?”

“Absolutely. I mean he has a degree in electrical engineering, right? He'd be able pick it up with his head instead of just kind of winging it like I did.” Jaemin laughs at himself. 

Jaemin isn’t wrong but there’s no need to make light of himself for that. Even Renjun knows there aren’t many people around who could just _do that_ like Jaemin did, based on nothing but the right tools and a set of schematics. The White Rabbit must have a latent knack for mechanics, making him an even greater asset.

“No wonder you’re so good at your job.” Renjun compliments easily, because he means it. “I’m sure improvised problem solving often comes in handy.”

“Only about as handy as luck.” Jaemin waves this off and shifts gears. “Which the three of you seem to have in abundance, by the way."

Renjun is not about to argue that.

"But some basic housekeeping: you’ve been out for about two hours. Carotid, ankle, and leg are all rip-roaring and ready to rumble."

Now fully mobile, Renjun swings his legs over the side of the bed and strolls to a long mirror to observe the damage to his neck. Starting from beneath his left ear, the diagonal slash ends at the notch between his collarbones. If anything, it’s startlingly similar to a meatling scar and Renjun can’t help but follow the line with his finger, mesmerized. 

“I think it looks sexy.” Jaemin admits casually, repacking the surgery paraphernalia. “I mean you're obviously beautiful, and I haven’t seen it yet but I get this feeling you can be pretty cute too, right?"

Well it wasn’t like Doyoung was going to stick him in an unattractive body. “Okay...?”

“So this sick slash of survival makes you sexy as well.” Jaemin continues, clearly intending to be alliterative. “Well, that’s depending on who you ask, really. I’m pretty sure Jeno would still be into you even if it was just your brain in a jar.”

“What?” Renjun asks.

“What?” Jaemin mimics.

Renjun was only _just_ repaired, why does it suddenly feel like he’s in free fall? “... what?” 

“I’m just saying you two work well together.” Jaemin backtracks, now even busier packing away the tools. 

While blushing doesn’t show up on Renjun’s face, he certainly experiences it. Jeno, nerd-hot Jeno is ‘into' him? Unthinkable. 

First of all, Renjun is largely made of hyperalloy vanadium-titanium and while there has never been a recorded case of meatling allergy to such an alloy, the point is he’s still made of _metal._ Secondly Jeno is unquestionably more attractive than he is, which is really saying something considering Renjun’s body was designed to be beautiful. Third, they've known each other for mere days. Fourth, there is just no way.

Fifth? There's just no fucking way.

“Wow, okay. Thank you for not immediately murdering me for that.” Jaemin smiles weakly before changing the subject. “By the way you all have access to anything in this loft you can break into, which is really more of a challenge than a warning.”

“Do you have a balcony?” A simple request. Renjun would like to see the stars.

“Even better, I have the whole roof of this building. It will be unlocked starting...” Jaemin pulls out his phone, a translucent half-holo prototype, and taps in a few instructions. “... now! Take the spiral stairs, you really can’t miss them. There’s also a gift for you in the kitchen so be sure to grab it.”

“Thank you, Jaemin. Really.” Renjun opens the door to leave but hesitates, his back to their host. No, their new asset. Their friend.

“I’d move a mountain if I thought it was the right thing to do.” Jaemin says eventually. “This is the right thing. Plus Yangyang has saved my life at least a dozen times so if he's in, I'm in.”

"Our probability of survival just multiplied. Thank you for throwing your fate in with mine."

"Ahh, see, I prefer to think of it as me throwing my free will in with yours."

“It’s worth more that way.”

With a final nod Renjun departs and makes a beeline to the kitchen, eyes locked on what looks like a single-use powerpack—the sort of cyber-friendly power source used to hold you over until you can get to a legitimate charging station. There’s even a red ribbon on top of it with an attached note that says, _EAT ME._

The powerpack resembles a car battery except for the thick, braided cord snaking out of it and that one whole side is transparent, revealing a swirling mass of neon green within. It sits snugly in a black backpack which will allow Renjun to walk around while charging without having to hold it in his hands the whole time. Smart. Jaemin knows what he's doing. 

With an appreciative nod, he presses the unlock pattern on the nape of his neck, popping open an intricate charging port before plugging in the battery with practiced hands. 

Immediately a sudden hyper-awareness of darkness, light, and sensation overwhelms him, eventually settling down into a quieter, numbing flow. His eyes glow silver without his bidding, a diagnostic screen overlaying whatever he sees in real life. Merely plugging into the powerpack bumped his charge to 20%, enough power to activate eye scanning.

Renjun zips up the backpack so that only the charging cord sticks out and slides his arms through the straps gingerly, making sure the plug is still fastened to his neck as he heads to the spiral stairs leading to the roof. At the foot of the staircase he hesitates, wondering if he should go wake Jeno but ultimately heads up alone.

The roof feels like the top of the world to Renjun, lit only by the meager stars and a bright half moon. The roof terrace is just as luxe as everything Jaemin owns, with a grill, patio furniture, vegetable garden, and what looks like a Rembrandt sculpture displayed in the corner. 

Looking up, Renjun can pinpoint about a dozen or so stars visible through the blanket of air pollution, but even those few are spectacular. Staring into the stars feels like a strange combination of suspense and sanctuary. Renjun loves it. 

It doesn’t take him long to wander right to the edge of the roof, a place between the city of lights below and the blanket of stars above. With his body now fully restored to him, Renjun makes an effortless standing leap on top of the metal balcony. He has never feared heights and his gyroscopic core always holds him perfectly balanced whether he’s standing on the sidewalk or the very edge of a 45-story building like this. 

He has never been taught about the stars but they’ve always hovered at first place in Renjun’s estimation of the most beautiful things on Earth. He’s seen images of many incredible people and places but the only picture that ever captured his soul so completely was one of the limitless night sky. What Renjun's looking at is not that, but even the few stars he can see through the metropolitan haze capture his imagination so wholly he feels as though his entire existence has been refreshed just by standing there and breathing them in. 

Renjun’s fingers drift up and down his scar almost without his allowance. It’s more than mere superficial damage, it's a mark of honor. One gained by something as idiotic and worthwhile as rescuing Jeno’s cat. Worth it. Completely worth it. 

It’s _his_ scar, his very first since inhabiting this body. Renjun doesn't ever want it fixed.

Helios is the one who collects scars. They litter his body at each connection to his cybernetic prostheses, mapping his skin with a verifiable timeline of trauma. Sometimes Renjun wonders who actually has it worse, all told: Helios, who will never escape his pain but still has his heart; or Renjun, who knows no pain but never, ever will. 

Helios is not a violent person by nature (growing up it was Renjun who had far less control of his temper) but to betray, disregard, or abandon him is to sign your own death warrant. He is the worst enemy imaginable and, likewise, the greatest ally that will never be.

Mainly because Renjun betrayed, disregarded, and abandoned his brother, all in one fell swoop. 

"Good to see you on your feet again."

Renjun turns, perfectly poised on the railing, to see Jeno closing the roof door behind him. He’s bundled in complicated layers of winter apparel: a fluffy scarf over a parka over that ratty black hoodie, with fingerless gloves that do absolutely nothing to protect his hands from the chill. This will not do because Renjun needs his fingers. Actually; Jeno's head, his heart, his hands—he needs all of it. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” Renjun asks, ending the balancing act with a hop down to Jeno’s level.

He laughs at this, breath clouding the air as he takes a spot next to Renjun, taking the time to lean backwards against the railing and shine him a dinky grin. “Quick question. How long do you think you’ve been up here?”

Oh? Renjun checks his optical overlay to read the time. “About two hours, apparently. Oh. Sorry.”

“No apologies necessary. Jaemin woke me from my nap by throwing a bunch of winter clothes on top of me, I got the hint pretty quick.” Jeno looks straight up and breathes a directed stream upwards that quickly loses itself to the night. “How are you feeling?”

Feeling? That’s Renjun’s least-utilized introspective filter. “I imagine it's similar to what you feel when you get a good meal and proper rest.”

Jeno unzips one side of the backpack containing Renjun’s version of a meal and rest, examining with interest but without touching it. “I’ve really never seen anything like this before... props to Jaemin for getting it so quickly. I still don’t get that guy."

“He is a very resourceful man, we can give him that.”

Renjun actively decides to say 'we' but he is not at all ready for the confusing onslaught of fondness using the word brings him. There is real power in that plural. 

Despite being well dressed for the weather Jeno leans slightly into Renjun, as though to share body heat despite being well aware that he has no warmth to give. Leaning forwards on the rail in the opposite position as Jeno, Renjun waits a long moment before following his lead and scooches a little closer himself. Close enough for his bare elbow to bump Jeno’s heavily padded arm. 

Renjun has no particular or even any pragmatic reason to fall into Jeno’s flow like this but he does it anyway. It feels right. 

“Oh yeah, I brought you something.” Jeno says after a while, only just remembering. “I mean, it’s no sci-fi powerpack but...”

He digs in his pockets and extracts a white knit beanie. “For you.” 

Renjun blinks a few times at the hat before looking back up at Jeno. “You do know I don’t experience temperature, right?”

“Anatomy Lesson #4: kind of like meat human congenital analgesia.” Jeno smiles like an idiot despite being the opposite. “You don’t feel pain or temperature, only pressure.”

“So you kn—” Before Renjun can speak further he’s blinded by Jeno slipping the hat over his head. In another moment Jeno straightens the hat out and rearranges his bangs needlessly, paying extra attention to making sure it is snug enough.

“You still have a meat brain, right?” He drops his tone, shyly avoiding eye contact but still fussing with the hat. “Just keeping it cozy.” 

Renjun’s meat brain is protected by a temperature-regulating membrane so he will be completely fine no matter the weather, but those rational and dismissive thoughts get steamrolled under a sudden pressure behind his eyes. Anatomically, he knows this to be the build up of the oxytocin and serotonin his brain has been mass-producing since Jeno joined him at the railing. His brain is perfectly human, with all the same hormones and impulses that come along with it, but these signals don’t extend to the rest of his prosthetic body. 

Which is lucky right now because it means Jeno can’t see him blushing hard enough to trigger an aneurysm. Renjun mouths, _thank you_ , and Jeno gives him a close-eyed smile in return before they fall back into a comfortable silence. After a while Renjun mirrors Jeno’s position, leaning his back against the railing and looking up at the same dim stars. 

“This is my first time.” Renjun mutters, unsure why he wants Jeno to know.

“First time...?”

“Stargazing.”

Jeno turns to him but Renjun determinedly looks straight up and continues. “I have always... wanted to? We weren't allowed to pursue any artistic or cultural hobbies, nor were we allowed outside at night. I suppose my natural interest in astronomy was never explored.”

“These stars are shit.” Jeno says plainly before laughing once. “All this light pollution? No, this is no good. I’ll take you out to the country so you can _really_ see the stars.”

Future planning—the pressure behind Renjun’s eyes is back, as is the invisible blush. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“I know it hasn’t been long but you’re free now, so. What else do you want to do?”

“I...” Renjun hesitates for a moment, not because he doesn't know what to say but because the answers are deeply personal. He still wants to share them with Jeno. “I want to paint. I definitely want to see a therapist. Yangyang tells me I have to ‘binge’ something.” 

Jeno laughs at this but says nothing more, prompting him to continue.

“I used to sing.” He admits quietly, as if it were some big secret. “Back before the Children of Hyperion were named.”

He sang until they took his vocal cords. 

Jeno hums to himself. “I can tell you have a good voice.”

Present tense, as though Renjun still has it. “What makes you say that?” 

“Just a feeling.” Jeno knocks shoulders with him, still looking up.

Renjun knocks him right back. “Thank you. Also you’re not wrong, but it was Helios who had the golden pipes.”

It feels okay to talk about him but only here, sandwiched between city lights and inky night. Only with Jeno.

“Somehow I find it hard to imagine you and him busting out a duet together...” Jeno laughs gently. 

Renjun throws him a sideways smirk. “Especially considering he just slit my throat.”

“Please don’t joke about that.” 

“Sorry. I mean, it has happened so many times I consider it... regular. Before, when we were still competing. Me in this body against him in his—this was when he only had his leg and eye prosthetics—and I’ve still never been able to defeat him in fair combat.” Renjun explains carefully. “He's angry, not evil.” 

“You love him.” Jeno nods, making it seem so simple. “Even though he tried to kill you.”

"You misunderstand. Donghyuck won’t kill me." This is more than a fact, it's their pact. "We competed to survive, not to destroy. After Selene... we had to stick together and we made a promise to never kill the other. It was something Hyperion could never take from us. I have to trust it.”

Jeno’s eyes bug out at this sudden firehose of information. “... does he feel the same?”

“Yes.” Renjun means this as certainly as he knows he still loves Donghyuck. “He won’t kill me. He only wants to hurt me but boy, does he.”

Humming to himself, Jeno purses his lips for a long moment before speaking. “Why does he want to hurt you?”

Selene abandoned them and died escaping, now Renjun is the one leaving Donghyuck behind, alone. Alone with _Doyoung_ , who has never made it a secret that Donghyuck is his least favorite child. Renjun abandoned the bright boy who encouraged him to sing, now the world-class assassin that will never take his life. Eventually he finds the right words out of far too many that need to be expressed. 

“Donghyuck wants to hurt me because I hurt him first.”

Jeno doesn’t speak to this immediately and instead chews on the inside of his cheek, considering this as though it’s some equation that can actually be solved. 

"Okay." He blows another stream of air into the sky before speaking. “Then you just have to _un_ -hurt him, right?”

Renjun is getting very good at meatling expressions and idioms, but this? “Explain."

“Let’s go rescue your brother.” 

Rescue? Donghyuck? “From SECTORm?”

“From Kim Doyoung.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)


	8. Chapter 8

Over the next three days of convalescence they scheme up enough duds of rescue plans to finally be able to recognize one that isn’t _completely_ misguided. That plan is basically: Jaemin. The White Rabbit using his clout and past relationship with SECTORm to just waltz right in under the believable guise of reestablishing a working relationship. Jaemin is the only one SECTORm doesn’t know about and is also the only one who could just walk in there in the first place. Considering that Yangyang actually did get the better of Donghyuck, temporary though it was, he is probably number one on the half-cyberling’s personal hit list, and sending in Renjun is not an option for obvious reasons.

So, currently useless, he and Yangyang hover behind Jeno working at a high-tech computer console, both bored and strangely mesmerized watching him show off computer science wizardry. Renjun doesn’t understand it, but he knows Jeno is good at it just from his shift in attitude to something comfortable and composed.

But Jeno doesn’t exactly change when he gets behind a screen, instead he’s simply returning home to his comfort zone. Renjun’s escape so far has been largely a combative endeavor, making good use of Yangyang’s knack for everything and his own superior body. But when the storm of action passes and there are no more grenades in play, Jeno’s skillset is the most powerful and important. Renjun has been so fixated on his skills with cybernetics he didn’t even think about what else Jeno can do with a few keystrokes and flexible morals.

For example, Jeno had complete control of Jaemin’s entire computer network within five minutes of their host challenging them to break in, but since he’s a good person he revamped the entire system overnight to cut out redundancies and increase energy efficiency by 2.1%. Jaemin had no actual idea until Jeno told him about it. 

He is truly at home here behind two keyboards, 3 wide panel monitors and a thick pair of glasses; and somehow he has never been more distracting.

“Why can’t I just go stake it out?” Yangyang huffs, clearly unaccustomed to being still. “Like a getaway driver. You know, to get him _away_ when this inevitably fails?”

“Jaemin’s reputation is of perfect neutrality, which must be why they used him to procure materials in the first place.” Renjun explains. “Even a hint of double dealing could compromise him.”

The plan, as it stands, is to infiltrate the main SECTORm facility with the primary objective of physically uploading the means for Jeno to break into their hardline network, and the secondary objective of opening up some line of communication between Renjun and Donghyuck. Despite it leaving himself open to every conceivable danger, it had been Jaemin who suggested they use the White Rabbit to reconnect with Hyperion.

So Jaemin made a series of calls and charmed his way up the SECTORm chain of management before reaching the ear of Doyoung’s personal secretary to schedule a face-to-face. Just like that. 

That meeting is in five minutes.

On Jeno’s right screen are two windows, one displaying a 3D blueprint of the main building of SECTORm another with a live feed of whatever Jaemin’s right eye sees via specialty contact lenses. The left contact is for receiving and if it were currently on, it would show Renjun, Jeno, and Yangyang looking extremely worried. To avoid distraction, Jaemin has his left contact switched off. 

For the moment it looks like he’s walking down a long metal hallway, almost painfully clean, with bright white light emitting from under a raised, paneled metal floor. Renjun knows this hall—he can almost imagine the bloody footprints he left behind escaping down it. The window below the Jaemin’s-eye view screen is the map SECTORm, with an unnecessarily cute white rabbit icon marking Jaemin’s live location within the facility. 

“This is a stupid idea.” 

“We all know you hate this, Yaya.” Jeno quips without turning back to them, a bit sassier when he’s in his comfort zone. “But he volunteered.”

On the eye view screen Jaemin raises his thumbs up into his line of vision, silently agreeing with Jeno. A minuscule cochlear implant and a contact lens video feed is all they can risk sending Jaemin behind enemy lines with, as anything else larger wouldn’t be able to get through SECTORm security. He can hear the three of them but it was too risky to incorporate any sort of talk-back device.

“Being the only option is not the same as volunteering.” Restless, Yangyang sticks his hands in his front pockets and shifts his weight, not taking his eyes away from the Jaemin window. “He always leaves far too much to chance, I swear. I do not know how he survived before me. You hear that, Jaemin?”

Jaemin shoots them a finger heart but the feed breaks up a bit. It’s bound to get worse the further he proceeds into the subterranean belly of SECTORm, but hopefully Jaemin can find a place to upload Jeno’s polymorphic backdoor program before he goes too far out of range. 

“Hey, Jaemin,” Jeno speaks into a thin black mic. “Remember, any terminal with a xUSB port—or, actually? An FHJ or even a BiBi jack could work as well, bu—”

“—down, boy.” Renjun placating an overeager Jeno by petting the top of his head like a dog and for some reason it works. “The priority is planting the backdoor, as it would allow for a second shot if we fail to make contact with Donghyuck and wish to try again.”

Jaemin gives them another, more surreptitious thumbs up.

“No one will judge you if you back out, Jaemin.” Renjun mutters. “He’s my brother, yes, but we are not trading you for him.”

Another thumbs up. 

“Hey,” Yangyang starts quietly. “He’s right, the top priority is you. Just get the hell out of there if things look bad.”

After a small pause, Jaemin gives them a lukewarm sideways thumb.

“I mean it.” A strange darkness flits across Yangyang’s face.

After Jaemin shoots them another heart through the screen he puts his pointer fingers together in an X, indicating he will cease responding to them. He looks around behind him, curiously alone. Renjun thought security would be doubled after his rather dramatic departure, but Jaemin has been unescorted and unbothered ever since the entrance on the ground floor. It could be a testament to Jaemin’s clout, it could be that Renjun already killed the majority of their staff, or it could very well be a trap.

“Anyone else smell a trap?” Yangyang wrinkles his nose, sharing Renjun’s trepidation. 

On the screen, Jeno moves the Jaemin-view window to the middle monitor, blowing it up double the size it had been with the same resolution. “Jaemin, please be careful. We—or, really, I can’t help you until you install the drive but when you do, that place will be ours.” 

Jeno presents as a (distractingly) handsome jock but probably has trouble talking to strangers and already boasts an academic resume that would take most people well into their thirties to achieve. On top of this mastery of mathematics he’s also an inexplicably good person. Every single thing he does is based upon a bedrock of quiet compassion and an inherent empathy so pure and compelling that Renjun has been changed by it and he is quite literally _heartless._

In many ways Jeno is the rightful heir to the Animate-Inanimate algorithm; the clear second-coming of Hyperion. Kim Doyoung elected not to put any emphasis on the emotional development of his experiments—quite brilliant in an evil way. He had to perfect Renjun’s body and mind (the hardware) first and foremost, and adding cyberling emotional development to the mix only adds more and more uncontrollable variables. 

Afterall, Renjun is the successful prototype—an invincible body that happens to be inhabited by a hypersensitive individual. Journeys of self-actualization were reserved for later generations of Hyperion. Renjun is a test of everything they’ve been working towards for the last 25 years. Perhaps he’s more of a beta product than a true prototype. 

Based on the wealth of understanding and affection Jeno has been providing since the very first night they met, Renjun truly believes that he deserves this power: the AIA algorithm, the first functioning brain-computer interface of its scale. Jeno deserves Eos, the product because he cares about Renjun, the person. 

Jaemin’s-eye view shows him looking down his chest, grabbing at the visitors badge hanging around his neck and holding it up to a small white sensor on the side of the frosted glass door. The sensor flashes a green light and lets out a small beep and then Jaemin slips inside the door smoothly. 

The door led to a small room that had once been a waiting area but now hosts only a burly security guard who wordlessly eyes Jaemin up and down. Jaemin gives him a friendly nod and wave before indicating another door, this one actually leading to Doyoung’s lab. 

_“I just... go in?”_ Jaemin asks politely. The guard nods, eyes still locked on Jaemin. He goes through the meeting room to another, larger frosted door and keys into this one as well. 

This door takes a little bit longer to unlock owing to its enhanced security features but in a few moments it slides open automatically. _“Cool. Catch you on the way out!”_ Jaemin bids the guard before striding confidently into the laboratory. 

Hyperion’s lab is supremely messy. This comes as no surprise to Renjun, who has spent a large chunk of his life in this room. Spacious and roughly organized into three general areas with a lot of overlap, one corner is basically a private data center surrounded by narrow shelves carrying bits and pieces of technology, disassembled devices, anything that could possibly be used in the pursuit of cybernetic prostheses. The majority of the rest of the laboratory is clear space to conduct experiments as needed. 

“Look, it’s Jeno’s apartment.” Yangyang attempts to joke, smacking Jeno on the shoulder. It does look like a scaled-up version of Jeno’s roof studio all the way down to the small section allotted for creature comforts like a kitchen and, strangely, an exercise bike.

“I don’t know how to feel about that...” Jeno mutters. 

Jaemin looks left and then right before honing in on the kitchen that also has a kiln and a welding station. Two men wait for him, one golden haired and the other dressed starkly in all black with a white coat. Helios and Hyperion. Considering he does still have a partial spine, it makes physiological sense that a chill shoots down it at the sight of his brother and father. 

“Nope. Fuck this, this is clearly a trap.” Yangyang says, again. “We should abort this.”

They should, but they cannot. Yangyang’s worry is so contagious even Renjun is starting to have a ‘gut feeling’ that things are about to go downhill, but Jaemin is in far too deep now. 

Why are spooky laboratories always so _cold_ _?_ Jaemin has half a mind to ask Jeno as soon as the thought pops into his head but now is not the time. Instead he slips his hands in his pockets and takes his time strolling over to the incongruous kitchen in the laboratory, also the only source of light in the entire place besides what colors flash on and off the collection of machinery. Jaemin’s tinker senses tingle as he passes by but, again, now is not the time. 

“Be that Dr. Kim Doyoung, my very first customer?” Jaemin calls when he’s halfway across, waving a hand sweetly.

Doyoung has his back to Jaemin and doesn’t turn but Helios—Donghyuck—does, leaning lazily against a counter as he watches Jaemin approach like a cat with home field advantage. Hair and skin as golden as high noon, starkly contrasting with the matte charcoal of his cybernetic limbs and long black coat; Jaemin completely understands why his moniker is Helios, Titan of the Sun. 

And much like the sun, Jaemin has to look away from Donghyuck for fear of losing sight of anything _but_ him. They never said anything about him being this bangable, which Jaemin considers an egregious oversight. He can tell Donghyuck is dangerous by how easily he holds himself, as though he has absolutely nothing to prove to anyone. Latent, obvious lethality like this is supremely sexy but can also cover up a multitude of inner conflicts and sensitivities. 

Jeno sighs deeply. _“Seriously, Jaemin. Just try to get out of there. We can figure out another way.”_

_"We don’t even have to find another way. This was folly from the start and he is perfectly capable of escaping on his own.”_

Jaemin takes a step into the kitchen area but not before one last blast from Yangyang. _“I’m the primary beneficiary of your will, right?”_

Actually, he is. Jaemin punts away the thought of the three troublemakers in his apartment in order to focus on the moment. Unlike them, Jaemin does not think this mission has been compromised just because Helios is here right now. From the way Renjun described his function within SECTORm, the half-cyborg is more or less Doyoung’s protector and attack dog, though he’s surely not the only one. What with Renjun having just torn his way out of this place, it makes sense for Doyoung to have a protective shadow like this.

Jaemin can get this done because what he brings to the group is his mastery of bullshit. Renjun is a titan in more ways than just his body, Jeno is stupid-smart and surprisingly morally neutral, and Yangyang can do everything and more. And then there’s Jaemin, who can talk his way into and out of a straight-jacket.

He is the Houdini of bullshit. 

“It’s been a while, sir.” Jaemin greets politely when he steps into the kitchen. 

Doyoung finally turns, swiveling around on a spinning stool with his legs crossed primly. “Indeed it has. You’ve grown. I remember when the rabbit was just a little bunny, peddling nuclear fusion cores and synthetic flesh with a smile on his face.”

His voice is smooth and controlled and his mannerisms are similar to when they met five years ago, but Doyoung has a bit to show for the passage of time, namely crow's feet wrinkles and the beginnings of silver hair growing at his temples. It works on him, stately and authoritative without really seeming _old_. Jaemin decides to start with that. 

“If you put it like that, I can’t say I’ve changed much. On that note I must say, you’re rocking the salt-and-pepper look.” Jaemin compliments, secretly hoping he’ll take that as an insult. 

“See, Helios says I look like an old dog.” Doyoung smiles fakely, getting off his chair to approach Jaemin. 

“Because you do.” Donghyuck scoffs airily, crossing his arms over his chest. 

_“This is fucked up.”_ Renjun mutters in his ear. This really must be particularly surreal to him, returning to his abusive home through the eyes of someone else. 

Doyoung approaches Jaemin with his hand outstretched and he shakes it with a toothy grin before looking over at Donghyuck. “And this must be Helios. Oh, and there’s my eye!”

This causes Donghyuck to frown slightly but Doyoung and Jaemin both laugh. Renjun wasn’t the only subject that Jaemin procured technology for. “Functioning well, I trust?”

The half-cyborg shrugs ambiguously but does not take his eyes off Jaemin, alternating between scrutinizing his face to dragging his gaze down and back up his body as though sizing him up in each possible way. 

“Don’t be a brat.” Doyoung snaps at Donghyuck without looking at him, suddenly sharp and dismissive. “If you’d like to be useful, fetch us a bottle of the ‘03 Chianti and two glasses.”

He has one of the most dangerous people in this timezone fetching wine like a barback—Jaemin almost winces at his plight but remains professional. “What, don’t have the ‘00?” 

Donghyuck spins away from the counter in a dark wave of his coat, scoffing. “Shall I bring tasting cheese as well?” 

“If you’ve got some.” Jaemin laughs, but is cut off abruptly by Donghyuck flicking him off behind his back as he strolls over to an impressive wine shelf.

“Don’t mind him, he’s had something of a week.” Doyoung explains with a pretty smile. “He gets hit with one measly plasma grenade and suddenly the world is over.”

 _“MY grenade.”_ Yangyang confirms and Jaemin almost laughs. 

“Alright my resourceful friend, you were a bit vague with my secretary so I’m not exactly sure what the purpose of this visit is.” Doyoung starts them out with distrust, not a good sign. “Not that I don’t appreciate it. Just looking at you reminds me of all the little bits and pieces I need that no one else has been able to procure.”

 _“Jaemin, you got this.”_ Jeno calls quietly. 

“Consider this a sales call.” Jaemin starts, eyes flicking to Donghyuck as soon as he steps back into the kitchen with a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other. 

“Yes, he is quite pretty, isn’t he?” Doyoung coos, noticing Jaemin’s interest in Donghyuck. “I could lend him to you, if you’d like."

Jaemin and Donghyuck’s eyes bug out at this veiled pimp joke and Doyoung just laughs once. “I mean if you ever need anyone dead or dying. Or tortured, Helios is getting very good at that, aren’t you?”

Why is Doyoung being like this? By all rights Helios is the only child he has left and he just humiliates him, as if he’s taking out all his rage and betrayal over Renjun out on Donghyuck. Despite how awful that is, it certainly makes Jaemin’s job easier because it’s much simpler to sway someone if they’re being mistreated. 

Donghyuck walks right by without a word and Jaemin tries not to look at him. “I... well I have no need for an assassin at the moment, though I’m certain he would get the job done.”

Silence falls as Donghyuck uncorks the wine and pours two glasses, eventually giving one to Doyoung and one to Jaemin before taking his place at the back of the kitchen again, arms once again over his chest. 

Looking down into the deep red, Jaemin swirls the wine around his glass curiously and takes a sniff. He hesitates, not being a wine guy, and tries to keep a grimace off his face.

Doyoung misreads his issue and manages to make things even worse for Donghyuck. “Ah, I see, you can never be too safe in this business. I very well could have poisoned you for whatever reason. Helios, if you would be so kind as to prove our intentions...”

Doyoung grabs Jaemin's wine from his hands and holds it out to the side without even looking back at Donghyuck. After a tense moment Donghyuck grabs Jaemin’s wine and raises it to his lips to test for poison. What the fuck. 

“Hey, hey, no, whoa!” Jaemin flails, awkwardly reaching for the glass back. “I’ll drink it, jeez, just don’t...”

Yangyang says something in his ear but Jaemin’s entire focus centers on controlling the hot rage building in his gut. He makes him test food for poison? Doyoung is a monster. And why does Donghyuck even put up with it? Hyperion must have something on him or can provide something no one else can and if Jaemin wasn’t convinced that they should go rescue him before, he is now. This is abuse on a cruel, almost medieval level.

Wine glass back in Jaemin’s hand, he and Hyperion make a sweeping toast to ‘living on the fringe’ before taking a sip. Even Jaemin can tell the wine is damn fine. 

“So, what brings you here, Jaemin?” Doyoung asks, shifting his mood and the entire atmosphere with it. 

He goes serious but Jaemin remains flippant. “Oh, nothing much. Just heard you got your ass handed to you by Eos and might be needing some assistance picking up the pieces.”

 _“Jaemin what are you doing.”_ Renjun deadpans. 

Jaemin can’t see Donghyuck’s reaction to this but he can _feel_ it. Frigid and cutting and somehow numbing, like sunlight reflecting off snow. 

“Oh? And who told you that?” Doyoung asks breezily. “Sounds like you’re here to gloat.”

_“Are you armed right now? Because you should be.”_

“I can talk a bit of shit and still peddle my wares. Might even drop the price for an old friend in need.” Jaemin smirks, wandering around the kitchen with his glass of wine. “As for who told me... why, I really can’t say. Unnamed sources, rumor mills, a drunk duo of security guards spilling their hearts and fears...” 

Jaemin is being honest about the guards, actually, considering that two nights ago he and Yangyang went scouting for information and plied a couple of chatterboxes into spilling company tidbits. Doyoung raises an elegant eyebrow and takes another sip of wine, straining it through his teeth like the boujie boss he is. Jaemin should have guessed earlier than he’s an awful person just from this sort of behavior alone.

 _“Come on, who drinks wine like that? What an asshole.”_ Yangyang grumbles to the clipped laughter of Jeno but not Renjun.

“So,” Jaemin lets his eyes slide to Donghyuck before snapping back. “I’m here to offer you my services. We did good work before, why not reestablish our relationship and get you back on your feet?”

“You speak as though Eos somehow disassembled my entire organization...” Doyoung rolls his eyes. 

_“Not yet.”_ Jeno says, and Jaemin can easily imagine him and Renjun sharing a deep, lovely glance at this. 

Doyoung swirls the wine around his glass with sharp eyes. “... but I do see your point. Have you anything to show me, or is this more of a consultation?”

“The latter.” Jaemin admits sheepishly, leaning against a different counter. He thinks he saw the right xUSB port but he needs to get closer to be sure. “If you have a shopping list, I’d be happy to take a look. You have to build a new Eos, right?”

Donghyuck actually scoffs at this. 

“Ideally I’d get mine back, but yes, I suppose I should get a jump on the next generation.” Doyoung agrees with a wicked glint in his eye. “It’s not like Helios was a success, so perhaps it’s high time for the next step.”

Wow. 

_“Jaemin, can you just fucking kill this dude?”_

_“It’d solve a whole bunch of problems...”_ Jeno agrees with Yangyang.

Renjun sighs. _“I wish. It’s not Kim Doyoung we have to kill, but Hyperion itself.”_

“Not a success?” Jaemin is supposed to be ingratiating himself with Doyoung but can’t hold back his knee-jerk reaction to this. He raises his glass to Donghyuck. “If _you’re_ not a success, I don’t know what is.” 

“He’s half hamburger, half dumpster machine.” Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Not nearly as special as his brother.”

 _“Suddenly I agree with Yangyang. Kill him.”_ Renjun growls. 

Helios’ frigid aura is back only this time it’s everywhere, targeting both of them. For one long moment Jaemin is certain Donghyuck is going to physically lash out at his father, but he doesn’t. His one eye carries the rage of a storm but he doesn’t move a muscle. 

What could possibly be keeping him here? Jaemin needs to figure out what binds him so tightly to this place and once he does (assuming Jaemin can provide whatever he needs from Doyoung) there should be no problem convincing him to willingly leave this hell. 

Unfortunately, _‘Your dad is a dick and you deserve better. Let me buy you a drink’_ isn’t exactly going to work here, even though Jaemin has used that or a permutation of it many times to great effect.

“I suppose I’ll need the same things I needed for Eos, but double it.” Doyoung wonders aloud, putting a finger to his lip and looking to the ceiling. 

As though waiting for the opportunity, Jaemin immediately looks to Donghyuck again and keeps looking until long after the cyborg looks away. 

“I can get working on that. I’ll need access to a computer terminal so I can—”

“—ah, nope.” Doyoung interrupts, smiling prettily. “Considering we did in fact get our ass handed to us, as you so elegantly put it, we’re under a cybersecurity lockdown for the foreseeable future. Precious few of us have access to any computers or networks at this time.”

“Ah.” Not good, Jaemin needs to get at one of those in order to plant Jeno’s trojan program and slip into SECTORm’s mainframe. “Not a problem. I do have my own copies of your original orders so I can start inquiring even though the technology is certain to have advanced since then.”

“Good. We may be a bit short-staffed at the moment but our coffers are greater than ever.” 

The conversation stalls and pinpricks of sweat bead on the back of Jaemin’s neck. As forcibly pleasant as this ad hoc stales meeting has been, they’ve been teetering on the edge of something that Jaemin can’t quite put his finger on. 

“Speaking of short staffed, where _is_ that right hand man of yours? Liu Yangyang, I mean.” And Doyoung kicks Jaemin right off that edge.

_“Jaemin get out of there NOW.”_

Renjun says that as though Jaemin actually can.

“I learned about dear Yangyang from some unnamed sources, rumor mills, maybe a first-hand recollection of you and him getting a duo of security guards drunk and leading them to spill their hearts and fears...”

 _“Fuck, Jaemin. We’ve been made.”_ Yangyang mutters, speaking very quickly as he tends to when shit goes to hell. _“He knows it’s me, which means he knows it’s Jeno, which means RENJUN.”_

Idiotically, Jaemin’s eyes flick to Donghyuck who looks almost constipated. No shame, no anger, no self-satisfaction at evil well done, just tension and restraint. If anything he seems uncomfortable, though perhaps that’s just what Jaemin needs to see. 

“Nothing to say, huh?” Doyoung sighs, sitting on the bar stool once more and leaning on his elbow with his chin propped in his hand. “And here I always thought of you as the brightest of the dirty dealers. Tell me, how _is_ my favorite son?”

Does he lie? No. Jaemin is caught so there’s no reason to hold his tongue. “Oh, you mean Renjun?”

_“JAEMIN, YOU MORON.”_

Donghyuck can’t help but gasp at the name, eyes that were once intense and irate now wide and _pure,_ almost. It was an accident, honest and revealing. For his part, Doyoung raises his eyebrows at Jaemin’s cheek but nothing more. 

_“Jaemin stop digging your grave, please. Please.”_ Yangyang growls, hiding his fear with aggravation. 

He will not. If Jaemin is going to dig a grave here it’s going to be a fucking gothic mausoleum. “Renjun’s doing well. He’s been painting, making friends... he even found the perfect boyfriend that you will _never_ meet.”

Donghyuck is suddenly gone, quick as the wind, but somehow Jaemin _feels_ him pop up directly behind him. Look’s like he’s between a sexy rock and an evil hard place. Might as well keep digging his grave of the ages. 

“He loves you, Donghyuck.” Jaemin wishes he could see what expression this brings out of the cyborg. “Jeno and I are working on getting him functioning vocal cords because he misses singing. Singing with you.”

Doyoung’s expression flips from vaguely pleasant to irritated. 

“Plus we all know that you, Doyoung, are an abusive trash pile and you don’t deserve Renjun. Or Donghyuck.”

There is power in using their real names—Jaemin understood that as soon as Renjun called him out for referring to him as Eos. Helios and Eos are the products of these cruel experiments, but Donghyuck and Renjun are the people. They are what matters and Doyoung will never be able to understand that.

“And here I thought Eos was the smartest of my children.” Doyoung quips. “But I can’t fathom why he’d send you in here like this...”

Renjun tries to say something in his earpiece but Jaemin digs into his ear and rips out the tiny cochlear implant with a flourish and crushes it between his fingers to stop SECTORm from being able to trace it back to Renjun and the rest. After pulling a Donghyuck and flicking Doyoung off, he turns on his heel to face him, Helios, the beautiful young man who may or may not kill him where he stands. 

“We’re here for _you,_ Donghyuck. Even the guy who hit you with his car and dropped a grenade on your head. How _did_ you survive that, by the way?”

Jaemin answers his own question just by taking a look at Donghyuck’s long coat. It suits him but at the same time, doesn’t. The shoulders are too wide, as though to accomodate for the metal arm that’s bigger than the other. Based on the material of the coat and the weight it holds, it must be a battle jacket. 

Donghyuck tries his best not to react and Jaemin might be hallucinating out of fear but it looks like he’s chewing at the inside of his cheek. Mulling something over, probably whether or not to let him live. Since he’s already deeply in this and might be moments from a bittersweet demise, Jaemin might as well flirt a bit.

“Sexy coat. Who doesn’t love a good battle jacket?” Jaemin grins, looking at Donghyuck’s body under the guise of admiring the jacket. “As for the gimmick... I wanna go with absorption because what Yangyang hit you with was condensed plasma which doesn’t dissipate well as I’m sure you know. But there was _also_ an energy rebound which is solely characteristic of a repulsor shield. Oh fuck, it’s _both,_ isn’t it?”

Let no one say that Na Jaemin doesn’t know his shit. He delivered a similar armored jacket to the mistress of a tech COO a week ago, even though that one was decidedly less awesome than Donghyuck’s. He has a prosthetic eye, ear, arm, leg, ribcage, and kidney, knives, a drill, a solar beam, a mini-RPG that comes out his metal shoulder, and now he’s wrapped in the most fashionable battle armor Jaemin has ever seen. 

No wonder he absolutely destroyed Renjun. 

And it’s no wonder he knocks Jaemin out before he even sees him move. 

Jaemin’s earpiece disconnection was distressing and Renjun is stunned into a painful silence watching his eyelids close over the contact camera. Suddenly he understands the meatling expression, ‘sucker punched’. 

“No, that’s...” Yangyang mutters, taking slow steps away from the screens but unable to take his eyes off of the screen still showing Jaemin’s pitch black point of view. Jeno hastens to close the window on the computer. 

Not only did they fail to connect with Donghyuck and implant the backdoor into the system, they lost Jaemin. 

“Can they trace us back?” Renjun asks weakly, trying to regain control of the situation. Nothing is coming to mind, no course of action seems nearly good enough to reverse this. 

Jeno hums to himself, somehow the most composed of the three. “Not by the ear. Jaemin did that right, at least.”

“Shut the hell up Jeno, what do you know? You just stay behind your fucking screens where it’s safe.” Yangyang snaps wildly and Renjun and Jeno turn around to face him with expressions of disbelief. 

“I... sorry, Yangyang. I just...” Jeno screws up his face and buries his head in his hands.

Yangyang looks blankly in their direction but not at them. “If your darling brother didn’t just fucking _murder_ him, he’ll eventually... tell them where to find us. If they want to break someone, they will. Jaemin doesn’t care about his life or his pain so he’ll last some time but—"

Of course he would finally get some insight into Jaemin’s psyche when they’ve already lost him.

“Yangyang.” Renjun doesn’t have a heart so why does it hurt? “I’m sorry, I really am. We couldn’t have known SECTORm was hunting down leads about you but we should have assumed so. Jaemin is...”

He’s their friend. “We’ll get him back.” 

“What, from the grave?” Yangyang spits, turning away from them and walking over to one of the windows. 

“He’s not dead. Doyoung wouldn’t waste resources like that.” Renjun watches his back as he departs. “And Jaemin is arguably one of his—no, _the_ greatest resource in the city.”

Yangyang says nothing. 

“I...” Jeno starts quietly and looks helplessly up at Renjun. “I think Helios... what am I saying here.”

Renjun stands next to Jeno as he cracks his knuckles nervously, still sitting in his desk chair. Without thinking (but definitely with feeling) Renjun grabs his hands to stop them fidgeting. When Jeno weaves their fingers together Renjun not only lets him but steps closer. 

“Talk to me, Jeno.” He whispers, wondering if his expression is as tender as he intends it to be. 

Jeno squeezes his hands before looking over at Yangyang now staring blankly out the window. “When Jaemin was caught, he went for broke with Helio—”

“—Donghyuck.”

“He went for broke with Donghyuck.” Jeno corrects with a nod. “Just a blast of honesty, things that would both hurt and heal. Like a last ditch effort.”

“He tried to undermine Doyoung.” Renjun follows, looking down at their hands. 

Jeno’s hands shake and Renjun holds them tighter. “If there’s any silver lining here... I think it may have worked. Yeah, I mean, you saw it too right?”

Suddenly refreshed, Jeno turns back to his computers and brings up the recording of Jaemin’s viewpoint, quickly pinpointing the exact place where everything went to hell. He plays the video starting with, _‘Oh, you mean Renjun?’,_ drawing attention to Donghyuck’s reaction. 

“Watch Donghyuck. Doesn’t he look more conflicted than intimidating? A little? I could be imagining it.”

Unfortunately Renjun thinks he’s right about that but as they watch the stressful replay he can’t help but catch on Jeno’s point. Donghyuck can control his facial expressions just as well as the rest of his body and it takes another runthrough of the video for Renjun to be sure he isn’t imagining it either.

“Jaemin, you charming bastard...” Renjun mutters to himself. “Look, he’s been doing it from the start.”

Yangyang slides down against the window and sits on the ground with his arms wrapped around his head and knees.

Jeno frowns and changes the playback speed on the video to half-time, going all the way to the beginning. “From the start?”

“He was... uh... schmoozing Donghyuck the whole damn time, look.” Renjun doesn’t know if schmoozing is the right word but he’s going with it. “During the wine thing when Jaemin stopped him from taste testing, that’s when it began. Then he continued to defend him from Doyoung’s cruelty and I don’t even think that was faked.”

“Donghyuck seems to agree.” Jeno nods, pausing on an image right after, _‘we’re here for YOU, Donghyuck’_ and flicking through his expressions frame by frame. “It’s hard to tell what with quarter of his face being cybernetic, but he seems surprised and maybe... _scared_ hearing Jaemin address him like that.”

“Surprised and scared...” Renjun mutters. “Rare for him and impossible to fake.”

“Not like that means anything.” Yangyang calls from his corner. Jaemin’s dogs wander over and plop down next to him, sad for a reason they don’t understand. 

Renjun opens his mouth but Jeno grabs his elbow, shaking his head. “Let him be, just for a while.”

“I would...” Renjun actually would give him the time he needs to collect himself if he could. “I would but I cannot. We need to make a plan because obviously we’re rescuing Jaemin. Jaemin and Donghyuck.”

“Well I know I am.” Yangyang struggles to his feet and the dogs rise with him. “And you two are coming with me. You owe that to him. Hell, you even owe that to your brother. You cannot risk everything for a _cat_ and not do this.”

“I know. We’re going to rescue them or...” His thought from before comes screaming back, a way to get Jaemin back without risking anyone else. “Or I’ll trade myself for Jaemin.”

He means that. 

“Absolutely FUCKING not.” Jeno snaps. “You are too important to just give yourself up like that.”

But Jeno is wrong about that. Eos might be a new god, might even be the dawn of a new age of humanity, but Eos is not Renjun. He’s just as human as Jaemin and Donghyuck, which means they are equally as important as him. That’s something that Doyoung never understood and for a moment he fears that Jeno doesn’t either.

“I am worth no more than Jaemin.” He starts, unable to meet Jeno’s eyes. “Which means he’s worth just as much as me. I don’t care if that’s redundant, Jeno, because it’s true.”

“But—” 

“The moment I become something more than human is the moment Kim Doyoung wins, don’t you understand?” Renjun needs Jeno to see his point here but still can’t look at him. “He thought he created a higher form of life but he failed because I’m just... human. Cyberling or not, I’m only human and we’re all equally fucked up and equally worthwhile.”

Jeno’s vexation turns quickly into muted horror, with a thousand thoughts flicking through his mind as his brow draws tighter and tighter. 

“Also,” Renjun tries to pull a Jaemin and drop a joke, “that was definitely the most contractions I’ve ever used in one go, so you’re welcome.”

Yangyang laughs at this, finally back with them at Jeno’s battle station. “I was wondering about that...”

“Doyoung raised us inhumanely, yes, but he raised us to be _inhuman._ He wired us to find it difficult to integrate into meatling society, in my case, quite literally. Swearing and fucking around with grammar is a very new thing for me.” Renjun stifles a laugh. “And I love it, by the way.”

“M’sorry.” Jeno looks away, swiveling back to his computers. “You’re right, definitely right, I just... care about you. Kind of a lot.”

His ears flush red. “I mean we still need to binge watch and go see the real stars and... we can’t do that if you...”

The pressure of absolute fondness presses against Renjun’s temples again but this time accompanied by the sad weight of Jeno’s naivety. “We _will_ see the stars, Jeno, you can count on that.”

Renjun doesn’t know if he’s lying and it scares him down to his synthetic bones. 

“Okay well, we need a plan then.” Yangyang steps in carefully. “I vote sieging the place and fucking everything up.” 

“We don’t have the firepower for that.” Jeno sighs. 

“Um, did you forget whose house this is?” Yangyang flicks Jeno on the back of the head. “Where do you think I got all my guns and bombs in the first place?”

From the White Rabbit.

“And since Jeno already broke his ass in everything is probably open.”

Jeno opens a command terminal on screen and after a few keystrokes confirms, “It is now.”

“First step should be inventory.” Renjun cannot help smiling down at Jeno even though all he did was move his fingers a bit. “Figure out what we’ve got and build a plan around it.”

“Oh wow, you really are fucking with grammar now. Props.” Yangyang nods appreciatively. “Right then, follow me to where Jaemin keeps the very best toys.”

Yangyang holds himself together pretty well but Renjun has spent enough time with him to see the apprehension beneath his loftiness. As he leads them out of the War Room and to an in-unit elevator, Renjun’s eyes catch on the healing scratches and puncture wounds on his neck from protecting Jeno without a second thought. Like Renjun he’s on the smaller side, more compact than Jaemin, Jeno, or even Donghyuck, but his scrappy form casts a mighty shadow. 

In a way he reminds him of Selene, who had such a small learning curve even Doyoung couldn’t keep up with his growth. Like Selene, Yangyang can do just about anything. The phrase ‘jack of all trades’ comes to mind, but Yangyang is better than a jack—he’s an ace of all trades. 

As was their long lost brother. Perhaps that’s why Renjun finds Yangyang’s presence so effortlessly reassuring. 

The elevator takes them one floor down, the only access to this level of Jaemin’s apartments, and opens up to an entire room filled with trinkets, keepsakes, weapons, and presumably most of the peculiarities Jaemin has taken from his clients. Much like Jeno’s (and Doyoung’s) secret hideaway, a whole wall of this roomless floor is devoted to messy workbenches, tinkering tables, and an impressive assortment of tools. 

So Jaemin really is a mech head—no wonder he could fix Renjun’s throat so well. Similar and yet so, _so_ different from Jeno’s electrical and computer engineering expertise. 

The problem is that taking inventory of a menagerie like this would take them hours and he doubts Jaemin has organized things so neatly as, ‘Things to Siege A Fortress With’. 

“Mm’k, we have ‘Goin’ Camping’, ‘Reluctantly Glamping’, ‘First Day of School’, ah! Here we go.” Yangyang calls from somewhere deep within the shelves and books and machines. “The ‘Do You Wanna Siege a Fortress?’ shelf. Jaemin has no idea how to label things properly but it sure saves us some time.”

Oh, so Jaemin has organized things so peculiarly that he actually has ‘Things to Siege A Fortress With’. What a guy. 

When he and Jeno locate Yangyang within the labyrinth, the arsenal before them is stunning. Grappling hooks, headsets, bombs of all shapes and sizes, camouflage gear, tactical armor, riot shields _and_ energy shields, and then the real weapons. RPGs, pistols, rifles, claymores, knives, swords, a bow, a crossbow, more knives... there’s a curiously empty slot that looks the perfect size for Yangyang’s shotgun. 

“I don’t even...” Jeno starts, his mouth agape. “Where do we begin?”

“With knives.” Renjun answers, already strapping himself into another knife bandolier. Yangyang is clearly their grenade guy and stocks himself up leaving space on his back for his shotgun and baseball bat. 

“Jeno, you still do not get a gun.” Yangyang smirks at him.

“Smart.” Jeno and Renjun break out in unison. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)


	9. Chapter 9

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

How annoying, especially screaming into his ear when he has a headache so tremendous it would register on the Richter scale. 

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

In a flash, Jaemin remembers where he is. SECTORm.

He also knows _what_ he is. Fucked. 

Jaemin’s eyes flutter open and he immediately winces away from the rush of light and the grating beep of a heart rate monitor. He tries to cover his eyes with his hands but finds himself unable to do so. Looking down Jaemin finds himself strapped tightly into a stark white medical chair, complete with an IV drip and a metal rolling shelf with a lot of needles on it. He tries to beat back his rising panic. 

“Rise and shine, Sleeping not-Beauty.” Someone quips.

It’s Donghyuck, sitting languidly in an armchair by his side with his flesh leg crossed over his metal one. Jaemin would much rather look at the half-cyborg than at whatever tortures they’ve devised for him, so he does.

He’s without his battle jacket and looks smaller for it but no less dangerous, wearing a sleeveless black shirt exposing his entire cybernetic right arm _and_ his equally beautiful flesh left arm. Fitted black capri sweatpants are rolled up to the knees, showing off the majority of his lower leg prosthesis. That leg is on the same side as his cyborg eye and the opposite of his arm with the result being strangely balanced. Perhaps it’s about weight distribution, as there’s no way those limbs aren’t in some way heavier than the rest of Donghyuck’s flesh body. 

His mechanics are so, _so_ different than Renjun’s and he finds himself preferring Helios’ hodgepodge of implants to Eos’ full-body cybernetics. Even through his panic, Jaemin feels the urge to take him apart and put him back together better than before. Unfortunately, he sincerely doubts Donghyuck will let him tinker with his body. Ever.

“So are you to be my torturer?” Jaemin can’t recall the last time he was in this much danger and tries to flirt his way out of his fear. “Would it bother you if I said I’m _very_ into that?”

He isn’t, actually.

Donghyuck’s remaining eyebrow shoots up into his dirty blonde bangs and Jaemin considers it a win when he falters for a moment. “... no comment.”

With a snort, Jaemin leans back and snuggles deeper into his chair. Maybe if he pretends he’s confident he will appear to be, but it’s quite difficult to look self-assured while strapped into a chair. He hopes his contact lens camera still transmits and his friends know he’s alive, at least, but if they had any sense they would be halfway across the world by now—Yangyang is getting pretty damn good at forging passports, they should be fine. 

Yeah, Jaemin is definitely going to die here and when he does, he will go down smiling. “Okay then. What’s up?” 

“No one knows I’m here.” Donghyuck admits, rolling his metal fingers over his knee. “I wanted to talk to you before Doyoung physically picks Renjun's location out of your brain.”

“GUYS! Guys it’s back on.” Jeno bellows from the War Room, drawing Renjun and Yangyang’s attention from mapping out their siege of SECTORm in another room. “Jaemin’s awake! Not dead!” 

The only reason Renjun beats Yangyang in dashing over is because he’s a cyborg and even that was close. Jeno clicks a few keys before a large holoscreen appears above his monitors, showing Jaemin's-eye view once more. There’s no sound but he and Donghyuck seem to be in conversation. 

All of the sudden the original plan feels like it’s on again. 

Then Jaemin looks down at his body and they can all see his state: strapped down, surrounded by knives and needles. Fuck the original plan, they need to get him out. Both of them. 

“You want to talk about Renjun’s desperate plan to rescue you from this awful place?” Jaemin flutters his eyelashes. 

Donghyuck chews at his lip before rolling his eye. “I want to know where he gets the fucking nerve to assume I want _anything_ to do with him.”

Frowning, Jaemin stays silent but holds eye contact with Donghyuck to test something, namely if he is comfortable with it. Surprisingly Donghyuck looks away quickly, rising to his feet to fiddle with a little bottle of something clear and a syringe. 

“What was your master plan, anyway?” He still doesn’t look back at him. 

Jaemin has staked his life on the eye contact game many times and can diagnose this beautiful man as being shyer than he likes to project. Under all the angst and murder Donghyuck might just be a timid little bear, or perhaps he’s 100% shy and 100% assassin which definitely seems more likely. He started off strong for about two whole seconds before breaking eye contact and finding something to distract himself with and despite the terrible situation Jaemin realizes he’s completely fallen for this guy. 

With the syringe full Donghyuck turns to Jaemin, still not looking in his eyes. “You cannot seem to stop running your mouth, but I need those words to be _honest_ so say hello to my friends Sodium and Thiopental.” 

“Ohooyeah, bring it, baby.” Jaemin can’t stop looking at the needle. “You know how often I’ve provided sodium thiopental, amobarbital, even scopolamine for absolute morons? You think I don’t know how they work? Have at me.”

“See, I _don’t_ know how they work but I’m going to do it anyway.” Donghyuck chuckles under his breath. “Loosen up that silver tongue of yours. Prepare yourself for a bigass prick.”

Without any further warning, he injects the needle into Jaemin’s carotid artery and he gasps, seizing against his restraints with a low whine. “I-I don’t—heeeeey there it is.” 

The effect is instantaneous, flooding his heart with gold and his mind with wonder. A thousand thoughts come screaming in, each one brilliant and unstoppable. “Very nice indeed, you sexy weirdo. You know I would have told you everything without this, right?”

Donghyuck’s smile finally breaks free, soft and playful and _good_. He’s content to let him ramble which is just fine and dandy because Jaemin is happy just to look at him. 

And to ramble. “You’re a good person.”

This surprises Donghyuck, wiping away that sunny smile. “Many, _many_ people would disagree with you.”

“You warned me before piercing my neck with your truth juice, didn’t you?” Jaemin’s words spill out before he can think the associated thoughts. 

“No I didn’t.”

“Yeahuh, you did. That’s something a good person would do.” 

Donghyuck says nothing, taking his seat again in the same languid pose. 

“See, this is the problem with sodium pentathol or any other mind-altering barbiturates! Yeah, I’m telling the truth all right, I’m just telling _every single truth I have ever known._ Everything that pops into my head just—boom. So you better be ready for an onslaught of compliments, sunshine, because they’re a’coming.”

“I’m starting to rethink not killing you.” Donghyuck rolls his eye, uncrossing and then recrossing his legs. 

“Those legs already did.” Jaemin is straight up sexually harassing him now and dearly wishes he could stop. “Wow, yeah, okay. That was unacceptable, sorry. Just ask your questions.”

“But is it harrassment if I like it?” Donghyuck smirks, his eyes flashing to Jaemin and then immediately away. Bold and skittish all at once.

“Nope, nuh-uh, you don’t get to flirt with me. That’s entirely unfair.” The heart rate monitor picks up the pace a bit. “See, even the medical equipment knows that’s not fair.”

Donghyuck lets out the biggest laugh yet, high and melodious and it makes Jaemin smile so widely he definitely breaks his jaw. 

“What... what on earth is happening right now?” Jeno deadpans, glancing away from the video feed now showing Donghyuck smiling genuinely at Jaemin. He looks at Renjun quizzically. 

“That’s... Donghyuck.” Renjun explains, unable to beat back a grin. Before the fight in the alley a few days ago the last time he had laid eyes on Donghyuck was a year and a half ago, when he was punted to tactical ops leader and Renjun continued to grow into his new body. There were no smiles then. 

Then, after a calmer beat Donghyuck actually bursts out into laughter, as bright and true as the sun itself. “That’s who he really is.”

Across the room, Yangyang chats on the phone with one of his many contacts as he attempts to pull a White Rabbit of his own; that magic being the procurement of two garbage trucks within the day. 

According to Yangyang, they make the very best battering rams. 

Once free of his giggle fit Donghyuck shakes his head as if to clear the rest of Jaemin’s nonsense from his brain. “Okay then. To business. Where should I begin...” 

“Well my name is Na Jaemin, born August 13th—”

“Shut it. What was your grand plan here?” 

“I stroll in, shoot the shit, flirt with a cyborg, and upload something nasty onto your servers.” Jaemin admits easily. “The plan wasn’t the best, I’ll grant, but I still have a trick up—”

“This trick?” Donghyuck holds up a tiny xUSB drive between his metal thumb and forefinger.

“Okay, so I’m out of tricks.” Jaemin pouts, the anxiety-reducing truth serum working wonders on his panic. “What are you doing to do to me?”

Donghyuck furrows his brow, pocketing the drive. “Like I said, talk.”

As if. “You come in here with those lips and those legs and I’m supposed to believe you and Doyoung aren’t playing some sort of ‘sexy cop, bad cop’ routine? Please.”

The sexy cop snorts unsexily, shaking his head. “Doyoung isn’t a bad cop, he’s a sociopathic scientist. At least I’ll warn you before the drugs go in.”

“See, good person.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that already.” 

“Maybe you’re actually the good cop... the good and sexy cop.” Jaemin has no control over his words anymore and boy does it feel great. “If you’re so good and sexy, why do you stay here?” 

And with that utterance, Jaemin remembers that he has an objective here that isn’t just ‘make him smile again’. He needs to convince Donghyuck to leave this awful place, with or without him. “If Renjun doesn’t need Hyperion, why do you?”

Taken aback, Donghyuck’s eyes jump straight to the door as if to make sure Doyoung wasn’t creeping there. “I...”

“From what I know—and I know quite a bit about this madhouse by the way—you are an absolute, complete, lovely badass. You don’t need him, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck is silent for a few moments before closing his eye with a small sigh. “Tell me, why do you think Renjun went to Jeno at all?”

“Because he’s cute?”

“It’s because he _needs_ Jeno. Or someone with his same credentials.” Donghyuck explains. “By all rights he should have just bolted as soon as he was clear but he _can’t._ Not without someone or something capable of fixing him. He needs very specific energy too, you think that comes easy?”

Jaemin raises his eyebrows at this, nodding at him to continue. 

“He... and I... we’re tethered to this place. That’s how he designed us.” Donghyuck seems unsure why he’s admitting this.

“Let me guess, Renjun just said ‘fuck it’ and risked everything to find another Hyperion in Lee Jeno, President, Secretary, and Treasurer of All Nerds.” Jaemin pieces together with a gentle sigh. “I fail to see why you can’t find your own Jeno. Or just _use_ Jeno.”

“We have his file and it’s clear he has little if no applied mechanical experience.” Donghyuck shrugs this off. 

Okay, but Jaemin does. Oh does Jaemin have applied mechanical experience. “Donghyuck, you have to run away. I’ll help you find someone for maintenance.” Jaemin will find himself, obviously. 

“Then there’s the matter of the meat half...” Donghyuck continues, still not looking at him. 

Then Jaemin will become a doctor. The only reason he isn’t pledging his all for Donghyuck right now is the sobering understanding that if Jaemin goes too hard right now, he’ll certainly either piss off or scare the cyborg away for good. Also, he’s high as his esteem for Donghyuck which is to say, _very._

“I’ll see to that as well.” Jaemin promises, squirming in his restraints. “Please, Donghyuck. I guarantee you Renjun and company are cooking up an exfiltration scheme at this very moment and it would save us all a lot of time if you just busted us out right now.” 

“I can’t.” His expression is as guarded as ever. 

“Can’t is not won’t...” Jaemin informs dumbly. 

Donghyuck taps his cyborg eye angrily. “As soon as he... as Renjun escaped, Doyoung installed a proximity bomb in here. I take one step out of this facility without permission and it’s goodbye sexy cop.”

That makes it seem like he would if he could. Jaemin has to repeat that thought to himself a few times because even though this change in attitude is partly a product of his own efforts (and Donghyuck’s complicated heart, of course), it’s still difficult to believe. Of course he wants to leave, and of course he simply cannot. 

“I can’t even get _you_ out.” Donghyuck mutters quietly, flexing his metal hand. “That chair you’re in was built to contain Renjun.”

“But you want... to?” 

Donghyuck somehow manages to both shake and nod his head. “Even if I _did_ , which I’m not saying I _do_ , the console that frees you also controls my head-bomb.”

“And lemme guess, asshole Hyperion wears it like a string of pearls.” 

“Pretty much.” Donghyuck suddenly rises to his feet actively not looking at Jaemin, not out of shyness but something like shame. “To sum up: neither of us win and we’re both probably going to die here.”

“W-wait! You can’t just...” Jaemin struggles, his skin chafing against the edges of the restraints. “Donghyuck, you can’t just leave me here. Please.”

“I definitely can.”

“Come back for a second, please. Please.”

Donghyuck’s back is already to him when he stops, sighs dramatically, and turns on his heel. “What.”

“There’s a contact in my right eye, SECTORm tech actually.” Jaemin wiggles the right side of his face to indicate it but Donghyuck doesn’t grace him with a laugh. “Renjun, Jeno, and Yangyang are watching this as we speak.”

Hopefully. 

“Is that so?” Donghyuck locates a pen and paper and scribbles a message before shoving it in Jaemin’s face: 

FUCK YOU, RENJUN.

Renjun blinks more than he should as he processes what he’s seeing: ‘FUCK YOU, RENJUN’ in bold capital letters.

“Well what do you know... Jaemin got through to him. Sort of.” Yangyang sighs, completely out of laughter. 

“Not sort of.” Renjun whispers, watching as Donghyuck alternates bringing his message closer and farther from Jaemin’s face. “He called me by my name.”

“That’s the saddest win we’ve had so far.” 

Jeno hums at this. “And maybe the biggest.”

“G-gah, stop, I’m sure he gets your message.” Jaemin flinches when Donghyuck brings the paper an inch from his face once more before tossing it aside.

“It’s not like he can message back.”

Well that’s not exactly true, is it? Afteralls, a true magician always has another trick up their sleeve. “When I said I was out of tricks, I was definitely lying. It was pre-truth serum, forgive me.”

“And?”

“There’s a second contact.”

Donghyuck frowns, considering this in silence. 

“Showing a live feed of my friends losing their shit, I assume. I obviously haven’t been able to turn it on.” Jaemin wiggles his fingers in their restraints.

“What are you trying to say?” He asks, guarded but clearly curious.

“Take my eyes, Donghyuck. N-not my eyeballs, yikes, just the eyes. I mean the contacts. Damn, when does this loopy juice dry up?”

“You’re the one who said he knows all about it.”

“Forever. It lasts forever. At least you know I’ll never be able to lie to you again. That’s nice, right?”

Without another word Donghyuck is right there, looming and caging him in so he can better inspect Jaemin’s eyes. Not fair, not fair. The heart rate monitor picks up the pace again and Donghyuck has the fucking gall to smirk about it.

With their faces this close, Jaemin can finally get a good look at the webs of scarring where the metal of his eye meets his skin. The scars are lighter than his golden skin and Jaemin wants to touch them (him, he just wants to touch Donghyuck) and wiggles his fingers again on impulse.

“You smell like iron and honey.” He blurts out because it’s the truth. 

“Do I?” Donghyuck breathes over his lips, still inspecting the contacts. “Alright you strange cutie, I’ll take your eyes.”

STRANGE CUTIE. Jaemin has half a mind to get that tattooed on his ass. 

Suddenly a thin circle of yellow light around Donghyuck’s metal wrist flashes twice in rapid succession and whatever it means causes him to push away from the chair and wave his flesh hand over the light bracelet. This causes a small yellow and orange holoscreen to pop up above the light, displaying a received message. 

“What’s it say? ‘Let the poor bastard go, his only crime was attempted trespass into your heart’? I bet it says that.”

Donghyuck snorts. “It does not say that.” 

He says no more and instead moves to the sink in the medical room, quickly washing his flesh hand with his back to Jaemin. 

“I’m expected elsewhere.” Donghyuck finally explains, drying off his hands before turning to Jaemin with a wicked little grin. “So I guess I’ll take those contacts now.”

“You’re just... gonna dip your fingers into my eyes, huh.” 

“Brace yourself.” In a flash Donghyuck looms over him again, leaning in and holding Jaemin’s head steady with his metal hand. It’s all far gentler than he dared to hope. 

“I repeat: what on earth is happening right now?” Jeno asks, gesturing at the screen where Donghyuck looks like he’s actually about to kiss Jaemin.

“I... have no idea.” Renjun just shakes his head back and forth many times. 

He’d be blushing if he could but betrays himself by looking at Jeno—first his eyes, then his lips. Renjun immediately drags his eyes away, bewildered and strangely thrilled. That was new. Yes, Jeno is startlingly attractive but Renjun has never lost himself in it like that before. 

Donghyuck then sticks his fingers in Jaemin’s right eye, blocking out the camera. 

“Okay, definitely _not_ making out.” Yangyang snorts, a bit of his cheer returning. 

Suddenly Donghyuck’s flesh fingers are all Jaemin can see and then— _yuuuuck_. It’s gross and painful, but at least he makes quick work of it and plucks the other one within a heartbeat. Jaemin’s eyes water immediately and as he blinks rapidly to clear them a few unbidden tears run down his face. 

As Donghyuck scrutinizes the two contacts in his metal palm Jaemin finally realizes his predicament. One eye, two contacts. “Oh fuck, I didn’t think about that... can you like, sync one with your crazy eye?”

“Maybe. It is SECTORm, like you said.” Donghyuck considers this before looking back at him and the tears on his face. Without a word he softly brushes them away and Jaemin is _gone._

Donghyuck is such a good, sexy person. 

After cleaning the contact he slips the receiving camera into his real eye, blinking awkwardly to get it in place. Eventually he activates it by tapping right on the pupil, causing it to glow silver for a moment before settling back into brown. Donghyuck closes his eye before tapping at some controls hidden under his hair, causing his cyber eye to zoom in and out of focus. A small red light right above his eye flashes three times but when Donghyuck violently smacks at the side of his head it makes a small whirring sound and the light glows yellow. 

“Annnnd... connected.” Donghyuck mutters, opening his real eye again to see: “You were right, they are fretting.” 

The feed goes black after being plucked from Jaemin’s eye, leaving Renjun in a spot of bother that Yangyang is quick to articulate. 

“Do we have any reason to believe Helios isn’t going to just take the contacts straight to Hyperion?” 

“Not... really.” Renjun admits, looking at a screenshot of FUCK YOU, RENJUN that Jeno pulled as soon as the message was shown. Jaemin made Donghyuck laugh and he called Renjun by his real name, that’s something right? It has to be. 

Then Jaemin’s-eye view turns back on, now looking straight down at Jaemin strapped to a white medical chair. Renjun recognizes that chair, just as he knows that those restraints aren’t going to be forced open under any circumstances. Whoever has the contact has it in the other eye than Jaemin had and as soon as it zooms in (something the contacts cannot do) Renjun knows that they’re looking through his cyber eye. 

Donghyuck turns away from Jaemin and approaches a mirror, giving it (and them) a little wave. 

“Well at least it’s not Doyoung...” Jeno reflects. 

“Listen, Jaemin.” Donghyuck turns away from the mirror back to him, frowning slightly. His wrist glows yellow again with another message. Then another. “I’m about to depart on a sanctioned errand outside the facility so I have to leave you now.”

Panic clutches at Jaemin’s throat again, potent even through the haze of happy drugs. “Leave me to Doyoung, you mean?”

He nods, looking away. “He’ll start with bruisers and environmental torture, then...”

“Then...?”

“Well he wants you for bait, so at least he won’t kill you...”

“... yet.”

“You’ll be okay, maybe.” Donghyuck finally looks back at Jaemin from where he stands at the mirror, a strange wistfulness on his face. “I have to go play the good little pet otherwise they’ll know something is up.”

Jaemin’s eyes widen, unsure if Donghyuck means what he thinks he does. “Is something... up?”

Donghyuck goes to the door and slides it open but hesitates on the threshold. “No promises.”

“I’ll take that.” 

He remains in the doorway and after a deep sigh looks back over his shoulder to hold Jaemin’s gaze, not sexy or shy or murdery, just as himself. Donghyuck lasts a whole second longer in this eye contact than before. Progress. Lots of progress today, actually. 

“You better be stronger than you look.” With that he leaves, taking all his iron and honey with him. 

As soon as the door slides shit, the panic returns.

By now Renjun and Yangyang have found chairs and set them up flanking Jeno. The situation has changed drastically and is largely out of their hands now that Donghyuck has turned into an actual player.

“Okay, we just have to roll with this.” Yangyang mutters, rubbing his hands together. 

Donghyuck walks leisurely down one of the identical hallways of the facility before turning into a bathroom and finding another mirror. With a perfectly straight face, he quickly spells out a message to Renjun in sign language. Doyoung made them learn it when they came of age in order to communicate silently in combat zones. What with the destruction of Jaemin’s earpiece, this is all they can do. 

_Your friend is a very strange man._

Renjun laughs at this and unsurprisingly, so does Yangyang. Of course he knows sign language. He probably knows sign language dialects too. 

Before Renjun can sign anything back Yangyang jumps in, speaking his words while signing them so Jeno can understand. “I’m not sorry for the car thing. Or the grenade thing.”

 _“I’m not sorry you did far less damage than you thought._ _”_ Renjun translates. Spoken (and nonverbal) languages aren’t exactly Jeno’s forte. Programming languages, yes. 

“It’s in the past.” Renjun signs and speaks. Now that they have this open communication to Donghyuck, he finds he doesn’t know what to say. 

_“I_ _don’t forgive you, Renjun._ ”

“I wouldn’t either.”

_"But that joker’s stupidity is contagious and now I want to pull an Eos and get the fuck out of here. But my hands are tied and there’s a kill switch in my head. I can’t leave this place, nor can I get Jaemin free. Hyperion has blocked everyone out of the computer system."_

It’s a very big line to sign so Yangyang just quietly begins to paraphrase for Jeno from now own so Renjun and Donghyuck can get into a better rhythm. 

_"Jaemin came with a flash drive."_

Donghyuck laughs, bringing the tiny xUSB into view with a raised eyebrow before signing, _"_ _I took all of pretty boy’s gadgets. Hyperion doesn’t know."_

Without further ado, Donghyuck fiddles with the side of his head, opens up a small panel and turns so they can see it in the mirror. An xUSB port. 

“Holy shit.” Jeno breathes as Donghyuck plugs it in with a strange wince. “Holy shit, did this just work?” 

Just like that, they’re in. Jeno’s hands fly over his keyboards, checking to see if uploading his backdoor into Donghyuck’s head will get the job done. Instead of looking at what he’s doing on the screen, Renjun just watches his facial expressions shift as he works. 

“Yes, yes we’re in business.” Jeno cries out, pointing at a string of command line text as if that means anything to him or Yangyang. “Let me do a little dance here...”

Jeno trails off as he starts typing, presumably taking over the entire system as was the plan. If Renjun is being perfectly honest, it’s all rather boring. 

_"What’s happening?"_ Donghyuck signs, growing irritated at the apparent lack of progress. 

_"Computer stuff_." Renjun replies with a shrug. 

“I swear this stuff always looks so dramatic in the movies...” Yangyang mutters, equally bored. 

“Yeah, you know what?” Jeno doesn’t stop working but gears up for a rant. “The media portrays ‘hacking’ like this with crazy pop ups and GUIs and pings—anything to disguise how boring it is for those who don’t know what’s going on. The fact is I just backdoored through someone’s earhole into the network of probably one of the securest covert facilities in this country and with a few more commands, I’ll run this place. Believe me, what I’m doing is very cool.” 

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow and Renjun attempts to translate that to him. He gets the gist pretty quickly and signs back: _"_ _You might run this joint but the controls for my head bomb and Jaemin’s restraints are on Hyperion’s private console. He’s a dick like that. If I make a move against him he can just blow my head up."_

“But WE can.” Yangyang signs and says. “‘The plan is to plow two garbage trucks straight into two locations of the facility, one for distraction and another for entrance. Then we just tear everything apart until we find Hyperion and his console, make your brain safe, grab Nana, and bounce.” 

_"Bold and implausible... I think I’m beginning to understand your style, Yangyang."_ Donghyuck signs to him with begrudging respect. _"I can clear a path for you to get to Hyperion and see if I can’t do anything about Jaemin."_

“Donghyuck... why are you doing this?” Jeno asks suddenly with Renjun quickly translating it into sign language.

Donghyuck thinks about this for a moment before shrugging in an attempt at nonchalance: " _Well, I asked myself, What Would Doyoung Do? and decided to do the exact opposite. I have to go before they look for me, when do you intend to gate crash?"_

_"We get the trucks in an hour, so maybe another hour after that."_

Someone enters the bathroom and Donghyuck nods solemnly at them before turning from the mirror, and turning off his contact without another word. 

This is really happening. In two hours. Now that the plan is made (and with Donghyuck a part of it, somehow) Renjun feels a headache forming—not the tension whenever Jeno does something amazing but the beginnings of trepidation. Anxiety. 

He’s going back into that horrible pit; the place he risked everything to escape. 

Already busy with another call, Yangyang leaves him and Jeno alone in the War Room. Renjun doesn’t pull his eyes from the video stream until Jeno pokes his cheek for attention. 

He turns to see him now standing, taller than him but not too tall to kiss. 

Where did that come from. 

“You look nervous.” Jeno smiles, tugging down on a lock of Renjun’s hair for no reason whatsoever. 

“No I don’t.” 

“You do. You’re becoming more expressive, you know that, right?” 

Honestly, it’s probably only Jeno who can read him and that’s okay. In fact, that’s ideal. Renjun tries to school his expression anyway. “I just... never thought I’d be going back.” 

Without warning, Jeno tosses his glasses aside and wraps his arms around Renjun’s shoulders, pulling him into a deep, warm hug. Renjun can’t feel the heat but he knows it must be warm and comforting because that’s what Jeno is to him. 

He is truly Renjun’s lifeline. When he told Jeno that before he failed to grasp what that might mean to the engineer, but after due consideration Renjun knows he meant it more than anything. It’s the _only_ thing he meant. 

“You’re supposed to hug back.” Jeno whispers in his ear. 

Jumping slightly, Renjun wraps his arms around Jeno’s back and allows himself to breathe him in. After a few moments he lowers his arms to be around Jeno’s waist but doesn’t pull away. “Thank you.”

Jeno squeezes tighter at this. “Remember the list: stars, binge, therapy.”

Renjun smiles against Jeno’s collarbone. “I’m... glad I found you.”

“We found each other.” If anything, Jeno hugs tighter. “I will get you back out of there, I swear. This will be the last time you ever, _ever_ go to that place.”

“If he gets me...” Renjun trails off, causing Jeno pull away and hold him at arm’s length. 

“He won’t get you.”

Renjun can’t look at Jeno, not for this. “If he does—”

“He won’t.”

“Jeno! If there’s any time to listen to me, it is right now. Please.” Renjun shakes his head. “I would rather die than be a prisoner there. If he gets me somehow, I need you to kill me.”

He means every word, especially the last six. It’s an impossible thing to ask of Jeno but he’s also the only one Renjun _can_ ask. 

Jeno freezes in place for a few long moments before shaking his head childishly, his hands moving from Renjun’s shoulder to cup his jaw. Gently, Jeno raises his head up in order to meet his gaze. “I won’t let him get you.”

“Jeno, _please_.” He’s actually pleading now. Seeing Jaemin strapped down, watching through his and Donghyuck’s eyes as they traverse the cold maze of SECTORm, the only thing Renjun really knows is that he cannot be trapped there again.

“I wouldn’t even know _how_...” Jeno screws up his face in pain, bringing his forehead down to meet Renjun’s and holding it there.

“You do, though. I taught you.” 

Jeno shakes his head against his without pulling away. His lips are _right there,_ Renjun watches them as they mutter, “Anatomy Lesson #44: electrical overload to the charging port.”

“You already have the weapon for it.” Renjun whispers, fingering the collapsible stun baton Jeno has hanging from his belt loop. He’s had it ever since War Room 2.0 and Renjun almost laughs at the idea that the first time he uses it might be against him. 

His headache doesn’t let up but the welcome tension behind his temples strengthens: anxiety and love in equal parts. 

Oh fuck, he’s in love with Jeno, isn’t he? This is different from what he feels for Donghyuck, and even Yangyang and Jaemin. Once upon a time he loved Doyoung as a father and he admired and looked up to Selene, but _this?_ He almost feels like he has a meat body, with sweaty palms and shaking hands and whatever else happens when you’re near the person you never want to leave.

“Promise me, Jeno.” 

Jeno sighs, letting out all the breath in his lungs as he returns to hugging him, now pretty much resting his dead weight on him because he knows Renjun can hold him up. 

They stay like that until Renjun loses track of time and Jeno finally sighs again and whispers, “I promise.”

Renjun nods, grabbing on the edges of Jeno’s hoodie pocket as he looks up at him. “Thank you. Just... thank you, Jeno. For everything.”

“No need to thank me.” Jeno mutters, blushing. Renjun wonders how long he’s been blushing. 

Probably since they met. Another item for his list pops abruptly into his head: kissing this hot nerd.

“Hey, can I try something?” Renjun tugs down on Jeno’s pocket causing the taller man to lean down to him, his face alight with curiosity. 

“What is it?” He asks, and now Jeno is the one looking at the lips in front of his eyes.

“Just go with it.” Renjun pulls him down further, bringing a hand up to cup his jaw. One of Jeno’s hands finds Renjun’s waist as though he knows what is about to transpire. 

Despite being in the perfect position, their faces closing the distance with every moment, Renjun hesitates because despite being 25 years old, this will be his first kiss. How lame. 

Jeno sees this, or understands it, maybe even _feels_ it because he brushes their noses and breathes, “I’ve got you,” across his lips before kissing him both soft and hard, pulling Renjun closer by his waist without truly deepening the kiss. 

No, Renjun is the one who does that. His lips might not ‘feel’ the same way Jeno’s do, but the pressure in his head builds and builds and he wonders if he’s about to faint so he does the only thing he can: kiss Jeno until his brain explodes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love doyoung, i made him a villain because he's charismatic as hell and would look great in a scientist coat

Given the light giddiness in his heart, it’s rather strange that Jeno is seated squished up against Renjun in the shotgun seat of a gigantic green garbage truck about to drive straight into SECTORm’s cover company. Technically he isn’t driving but Yangyang is, and he’s loving every single moment of operation as they barrel down an empty street. There aren’t many cars on the streets here, this area being outside the self-driving motorway network.

All three of them wear kevlar, including Renjun, but Jeno thinks the other two look far more badass with their knife belts and their grenade arsenals. Admittedly he has different sorts of goodies than they do, having gleefully pilfered a system console that wraps around his left forearm like a bracer. With this he can access SECTORm’s system while mobile, good for hacking on the go. According to Renjun Hyperion has a similar console that controls even more than Jeno has access to and that is what they must get in order to save Jaemin and Donghyuck.

Owing to Renjun being the heavier of the two, Jeno is more or less sitting on his lap in the small shotgun seat, holding his hand and stealing pecks here and there. Legitimately afraid that he’s going to die from happiness, Jeno is going to get all the kisses possible because he can and he must.

Renjun, the Titan of the Dawn, likes him. Enough to demand a kiss he couldn’t even seal the deal on. They haven’t talked about what this actually means for them but Jeno doesn’t think they need to yet. Equipped with a video contact showing him Donghyuck-eye view, Renjun looks straight ahead, only occasionally turning to Jeno for a smile or a kiss. He’s still nervous but not nearly as much as before their first kiss. 

The biggest thing weighing Jeno down now is the simple phrase on loop in his mind: _I need you to kill me._

Jeno promised Renjun he would, but he really doesn’t know if he can do it. Kill the man he would die for? The only thing worse than this thought is the memory of Renjun pleading with him, making him promise to take his life if it came to it. 

So it just has to never, ever come to that. 

Yangyang chats with a friend in the other truck via headset. The other driver’s name is Hendery and he’s accompanied by another one of Yangyang’s mysterious contacts, Xiaojun. Jeno’s dealing with too much right now to have the bandwidth to wonder where they got the garbage trucks from.

“I wish we could be in contact with Donghyuck.” Renjun mutters suddenly and Jeno rubs his thumb over the back of his hand. 

Touching Renjun is interesting because his skin is softer than any meat human Jeno has touched, but carries no warmth. It makes him want to lean into the touches they share as much as Renjun allows. As Jeno practices self restraint the cyborg travels a different journey, exploring physical contact and affection for maybe the first time in his life. Jeno is happy to give it. 

While Renjun’s tone about connecting with Donghyuck makes it seem like his concern is over strategy and coordination, Jeno knows there’s more to it. “It’s okay to be worried about him, especially since he’s going rogue from within the building...”

“I suppose you’re right.” Renjun squeezes his hand briefly. “What a mess this has turned into.”

It was messy getting here, that much is certain. Somehow Jaemin managed to complete his objectives while strapped to a chair and under the influence of loopy drugs. Somehow Yangyang whipped up a fantastically insane siege plan that might just work. Somewhere in the mess, Renjun fell for him. 

As his heart swells at the thought, Jeno steals a kiss on the cheek before looking childishly out the window again, cheeks aflame. He wonders if Renjun blushes too, in his own way. Jeno thinks he’s beginning to recognize it through his change of mannerisms and speech patterns. Like right now, he pretends to be mad about Jeno kissing him out of the blue (again) to cover how happy it makes him. A meat human would be blushing in that scenario, it makes sense that a metal one would as well. 

“Alright folks, we’re here.” Yangyang mutters to them, parking the giant truck at the mouth of a wide alley that leads straight into the loading dock of the storage building SECTORm uses as a front. Hendery will park similarly but on the other side of the building, heading straight for the entrance lobby. The lobby will be hit first, followed exactly one minute later by the loading dock. 

Their strategy is chaos on chaos on chaos, with three separate parties involved in the ordeal. Team Yangyang with the trucks and ruckus, Team Renjun going straight for Hyperion, and Team Hyuck saving Jaemin’s ass. 

Chaos has never been Jeno’s preferred mode of operation but he’s grown to rely on Yangyang and Jaemin’s innate sense for it. Even Renjun thrives within that rush. That’s probably why they need someone like Jeno to be still, listen, and cover their blind spots. 

“Countdown for lobby squad: ten, nine, eight, seven, six—”

A shiver shoots up Jeno’s spine. 

“—three, two, one! Go fuck it up, boys!”

They can hear the screaming of Yangyang’s friends through his headset and Jeno starts laughing. Soon Yangyang and Renjun follow and maybe it’s for the best because all three of them loosen up from the sheer goofiness of what’s happening. When they quiet down, Yangyang reports that Hendery and Xiaojun have broken completely through and are now out of the truck, lobbing smoke and flash grenades down every hall and in every room, drawing as much attention as possible. 

Jeno squeezes Renjun’s hand as their own minute trickles down and at twenty seconds out, he palms at his hip for the reassuring weight of his stun baton. At ten seconds Yangyang begins their countdown aloud.

At five, Jeno takes the deepest breath he’s ever taken in his life. 

At three, Renjun brings their hands up and kisses Jeno’s fingers without looking at him. 

“Two, one, GOOOOOOO!!” Yangyang goes pedal to the floor and the truck slowly picks up speed rather anticlimactically. The snail’s pace is painful for a few moments before the truck really gets into gear and starts tearing down the alley, blowing through trash bins like they’re made of sand. 

“Oh fuck.” Jeno mutters under his breath, shifting in Renjun’s lap. “Okay, okay, this is happening.”

“YES IT IS, JENO!” Yangyang cackles, leaning forward in his seat aggressively.

“Brace yourselves.” Renjun warns loudly, securing both of them with an arm around Jeno’s waist. 

After another heartbeat they go crashing through the single loading dock door and get a terrifying bit of air as they do. Yangyang urges the truck forward, laughing like a madman before coming to a forced halt at the end of the loading dock. Every alarm in the place is already blaring from Hendery and Xiaojun’s attack and Jeno hopes they managed to lead enough of the security guards away for them to get down to the lower levels without problem. 

The few people in the loading bay run screaming as the three of them jump out of the truck, Yangyang throwing smoke grenades into all four corners before bellowing, “Renjun, you’re up! Go find your dad and kick his ass for me.” 

With Yangyang holding down the fort on the ground level, Renjun and Jeno waste no time flying to one of the emergency stairwells only to find it locked. This is what Jeno’s computer console is for and he brings up its holoscreen and gestures through the automated lock controls to find the right one but Renjun beats him to it by kicking the door in as though it were made of cardboard. That works.

The stairwell is narrow and spiraling, cast in a deep red light from the triggered alarm system. Renjun leaps down the stairs 4 at a time but Jeno can’t do that and pumps his legs harder in order to stay with him. He comes to a halt two floors down, turning back to make sure Jeno is still with him. 

“Where are we going?” He pants, finally skidding to a halt by Renjun’s side. “And before you ask, no I do not need you to carry me again.”

“Suit yourself. We’re going to the 4th basement floor, to his lab. That place is the nodal point of the entire facility and boasts the most connections and defense. It’s the best place to start.”

Taking advantage of their break, Jeno pulls up another holoscreen, this one the 3D blueprint of the building. They’re going to the place of Jaemin’s ambush. After fondly ruffling Jeno’s hair Renjun takes off again, moving slightly slower than before.

When they reach the 4th floor basement, Renjun once again kicks his way through the door with Jeno following like a shadow. He recognizes this hall from Jaemin’s-eye view but the scene is much different than before; the deep red light of the stairwell continues here, casting a bloody sheen over a handful of heavily-armed grunts lying slumped against the walls or on the floor. 

The first one they pass has his throat cleanly cut and Renjun’s hand flies to the scar on his throat. This mini massacre must be Donghyuck’s handiwork, then. He’s going for Jaemin but it looks like he really did follow through with his words and clear a path for them.

But not a whole path, it seems. Renjun stops and holds his arm out, catching Jeno in place as they hear shouted instructions from up ahead, in the waiting room between them and the laboratory. Guards are most likely holed up there waiting for them.

“Anything you can do about it?” Renjun asks Jeno hopefully, slipping two long daggers from his bandolier. 

“Let me see...” Jeno flicks through a few holoscreens from the wrist console before finding one he likes. “Oh here we go. That room was designed to keep anything dangerous from the lab from getting out and likewise keep anything dangerous from getting in, meaning it has controllable atmosphere and... yep! Deploying knock out gas... now.”

He presses a button on the hologram that immediately starts pumping some sort of sleep agent into the air of the waiting room and it only takes a few moments before they hear the shouts cease and some muffled slumps onto the ground. “They down?”

Renjun activates his Silver Scan and nods once. 

“Siphoning gas... now. Should only take a few moments.” 

“You can be pretty damn useful when you want to be.” Renjun jokes. 

“Only for you.” 

Jaemin has never been this cold before in his life, including the time he had to sleep out on a balcony in Helsinki and genuinely wondered if he was going to freeze to death. Environmental torture, Donghyuck said. He did not lie. 

Not long after the cyborg left him he was visited by one Kim Doyoung, who made a big show of releasing Jaemin from his restraints. As soon as they were off, someone wrenched him to his feet and another person socked him hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and sending him to his knees. After more kicking and stomping they dragged him to a different room where they tied his hands behind his back, blindfolded him and shut the door without another word. 

It started with heat. Seeping steadily through the walls and floor, the temperature rose steadily while decreasing the oxygen in the room so Jaemin couldn’t take a proper breath. Then came the chill. Much faster than it took the heat to creep up, the entire room shifted into a walk-in freezer complete with a drizzle of mist to keep him cold _and_ wet. At least they left him his clothes, though he doubts they’re doing him much good anymore. 

About five minutes ago the alarms started blaring but were promptly cut off. When Jaemin put his ear to the frozen floor, he could feel rather than hear the sounds of heavy footsteps rushing away from his location. Or _towards_ him, it’s difficult to tell when you’re about ten minutes away from losing your toes to frostbite. 

If there’s any silver lining here, it's that the happy-making truth serum is well at work, still flooding Jaemin’s mind with enough giddy nonsense to distract from his predicament. 

_“You better be stronger than you look.”_ Oh, he is. He has to be, even though he can’t quite remember why. Is it for Renjun, or for Donghyuck?

Shouts ring through the closed door, aggressively at first before quickly shifting into pure fear. Screams, thuds, a few rounds of gunfire, and then nothing. The nothing persists for so long Jaemin almost drifts off into the cold but is startled back to attention at the slide of a door opening and the rush of warmth that comes with it. 

“Up and at ‘em, goofball.” It’s Donghyuck—he actually came back for him. What the hell? Jaemin deemed it far likelier that Yangyang or Renjun would be the one to come to his aid.

Donghyuck gently removes the blind fold and Jaemin just blinks up at him, mouth too dry for words. After pulling him to his feet, Donghyuck breaks the ropes on his hands, throws one of Jaemin’s arms over his shoulders and supports him with an arm around his waist. 

“Come on, I got you. No idea why, but I do.” Donghyuck almost coos, dragging Jaemin out of the icebox and leaning him against the wall outside. 

Jaemin pants deeply, too cold and too hot but finally getting enough oxygen to start functioning properly. “D-didn’t actually think you’d come back.”

“Should have come sooner, look at you.” Donghyuck tutts, feeling Jaemin's temperature and pulse. “You’re way too cold, here—”

Once more wearing his battle jacket, he strips it off smoothly and helps Jaemin into it with a bit of difficulty. The only impression that comes to mind is that it fits him very well, it's warm with Donghyuck's body heat, and it all smells of iron and honey. It's also covered in blood, which is fine.

“See? Good person.” Jaemin smirks at him.

With a dull laugh Donghyuck secures him by the waist again and tugs him down the hall, navigating them around a few bodies. “You forgot sexy.”

“Y-yeah, but you’re more than that.” 

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re this strange even when sober?” Donghyuck sighs in exasperation. 

“I guess you’ll just have to find out, sunshine.”

With the guards knocked out, Renjun and Jeno slip through the first door with a little help from his override commands but the actual door to Hyperion’s office is one of those only controlled by him. So of course Renjun just smashes it in. 

Knives out, he slips into the dark laboratory with Jeno following as quietly as possible. While he’s already seen it through the video feed, actually entering the lab is like visiting a hallowed hall. Jeno knows about his cruelty and inhumane experiments and can never possibly forgive him for what he’s done, but at his core he still respects Kim Doyoung. He admires the mind that crossed the AIA barrier. 

Jeno hasn’t told Renjun this yet but he’s read many of Doyoung’s published papers, most of which were written before the AIA algorithm itself. He even wrote a comparative paper on Doyoung and another genius engineer’s approaches to cybernetic theory, coming to the conclusion that Doyoung’s ideas were the ones worth building the future with.

An engineer’s laboratory can be much like an extension of their brain, and in this case Jeno feels like he’s stepped into a matured version of his own. There’s far too much going on but the disorder makes complete sense to Jeno. The lab is dimly lit from above, but as soon he and Renjun reach the center the lights power up to illuminate everything in wan white light.

Everything including Kim Doyoung. Dr. Dark Eyes. Hyperion himself, standing alone at the far end of the lab. Jeno’s breath catches in his chest when the man looks right at him, dipping his head in respect before dragging his eyes to Renjun.

“The wayward son returns. It’s good to see you, Eos. You’re looking well.” His voice is smooth, projecting well through the large area. “I see you’ve been building yourself a lovely little tribe. How disappointingly human of you.” 

Renjun says nothing nor does he move, suddenly pinned in place like a butterfly in a shadow box. Across the room Doyoung takes long, slow strides towards them, playing around on a wrist console almost identical to Jeno’s. That’s what they need to get. After he taps a few more things into his console, something—no, four things in the room switch on, one in each corner, and a faint humming fills the air.

“It’s been said that the true human superpower is our ability to form tribes. Groups of like-minded individuals with shared values able to work together to fight off greater, deadlier threats.” Doyoung stops walking, close enough for Jeno to see the dark glimmer in his eyes. These are the eyes of a predator, not Renjun’s. 

“So not our big brains and wiggling thumbs, our _social_ skills are what have gotten us this far. Do you believe that, Eos?”

Renjun balls his hands into fists but still says nothing. 

“What about you, Jeno?”

He takes a step forward, slightly in front of Renjun, who finally drags himself out of his shock and looks at Jeno with wide eyes. Jeno gives him a curt nod before turning to the man who is both his biggest hero and greatest villain. 

“We’re stronger together than we would ever be apart.” He says finally, gritting his teeth. “Why do you think your fortress is under siege?”

“A handful of twenty-somethings throw a chaos grenade and you call that a siege?” Doyoung laughs, high and cruel. “Come now, Jeno. I don’t care about this place, only its products.”

His eyes land on Renjun who finds his fire again and snarls back. “We are not products.” 

“Yes, you are. Especially you, my darling prototype.” Doyoung waves a hand airily. “You were sold to me, you were raised by me, your body was given to you _by me._ ”

“The only part of me that matters is the part that escaped.” Renjun snaps, taking a few steps forward. “The part that came back for my brother and Jaemin.”

“The part overcome with compassion?” 

“No. Empathy.” 

“Ahh, empathy, the ethical anchor of humanity.” Doyoung tutts, checking his console screen again. “Imagine all we could accomplish if we just buried such stale morality once and for all. You wonder how I could do this, and here I wonder why you don't see how necessary it is. True science demands we strive forward—our potential _deserves_ this. You, Eos, would have been born far sooner.”

“I was never Eos, you piece of shit.” Renjun barks. 

Still wary of the buzz in the air, Jeno checks his own console but finds no indication of anything that could be making the noise. That’s not a good sign. 

“Did you just curse at me, son?” Doyoung shakes his head in disappointment. “Helios was always a lost cause when it came to belligerence, but even you? Don’t tell me you’re using tragic grammar and contractions now too...”

“Oh, he is.” Jeno speaks up. “He loves them.” 

“I gotta say I’m very fucking fond of it, dude.” Renjun breaks all three rules at once and adds a ‘dude’ for good measure. Jeno falls for him all over again.

“And he learned from the very best.” 

Jeno, Renjun, and Doyoung all turn to the entrance to see Yangyang, shotgun in one hand and metal baseball bat in the other. He flips the bat dexterously a few times before cocking his gun with his other arm.

“Liu Yangyang I must say, I did not see you coming. I mean yes, I knew you were Jeno’s landlord, but being the right hand of the White Rabbit himself? A bit of a curveball. Then again it allowed me to see Jaemin coming from a mile away.” Doyoung shrugs. “So I should thank you for that.”

“You’re talking a lot of shit for an old man backed into a corner.” Yangyang spits, taking Jeno’s side and giving him a low-five while still addressing Doyoung. “You do know what you’re up against, right?” 

“Children playing with knives and grenades. Street punks playing house with a new god.” Doyoung sighs, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his white coat. “Am I missing anything?”

“Yeah, the fucking cavalry.” 

They turn again to see Donghyuck helping a battered Jaemin into the lab. Jaemin wears the black coat Jeno had seen on Donghyuck before and smiles dopily at the half-cyborg.

“Oh come on! Helios, you too?” Rolling his eyes, Doyoung takes another look at his console, almost as if monitoring something loading or charging. “And here I thought I got you sufficiently angry enough to renounce your dear brother for good.”

“Almost.” Donghyuck admits, he and Jaemin bringing up the rear of their group of five. “But I realized I hate you much more than I ever hated him.”

Doyoung waves him off like one might with a servant before winking at Jaemin. “How’s it going, Nana dear? Did you lose a toe to the cold? An ear? Should have gone heavier on the bruising but to be fair, I thought I would have more time with you.” 

“Don’t worry, Donghyuck rescued me before I could lose any extremities.” Jaemin smiles, nudging his savior with a wonky grin. He seems a little off, as though drugged or mildly concussed. Given that this is SECTORm it’s probably both and then some.

“We’ll take that console now.” Renjun stands strongly before them, spinning his knives so quickly they whistle through the air. 

“We, we, we. All this _we,_ all this _us._ It’s odious.” Doyoung rolls his eyes with a few shakes of his head. “Honestly, who do you think you are?”

“Good question.” Jeno steps up to Renjun’s side to take one final shot at a team name.

“We’re the Speculative Cybernetics Organization.” He pronounces strongly. “And all this _we_ is about to kick your ass.”

“YES, JENO! That’s what I’m talking about!” Yangyang finally approves, clapping Jeno on the back hard enough to push him forward.

“Oh, that’s good. I like that.” Jaemin says, followed by Donghyuck scoffing, “A little nerdy, but it’ll do.”

Renjun pockets a knife just so he can squeeze Jeno’s hand. 

Despite being spit on by the five of them, Doyoung retains his smooth composure as if he most certainly knows something they do not. It must have to do with whatever he keeps checking on his console and Jeno is proven tragically correct when his handsome face lights up upon seeing a new holoscreen, as if whatever he’s up to is finally ready. 

The humming, the holos, this seems like much more than just triggering Donghyuck’s brain to explode. 

“Well done, Eos.” He gestures mockingly to Jeno. “All you accomplished was going out and finding a younger me.”

“Wrong. I found a better you.” 

Renjun’s last words echo hang strongly for a few moments before Kim Doyoung bursts out in deep giggles, his hand flying to cover his mouth demurely as his chuckles quickly escalate into something strange and maniacal. 

The Speculative Cybernetics Organization shares quick, worried glances except for Renjun, still standing his father down. 

“The drama!” He finally exclaims, spreading his arms. “Oh, such delicious drama. You children have set this up better than I ever could. And Helios jumping ship? The perfect cherry on top.”

“What are you talking about?” Donghyuck asks angrily.

“I’ll deal with you _later._ ” Doyoung promises darkly before snapping back into that maddening loftiness once he takes another long look at his wrist console. “Like dawn must break before the sun can shine, Eos will always come before you, Helios.”

“Oh my god, Donghyuck, your dad is _such_ a dick.” Jaemin blurts out and surprisingly, the half-cyborg laughs.

“On to you, Eos.” He completely ignores Donghyuck and Jaemin and keeps his eyes on Renjun. “But to be frank, I'm not so sure I want you back like this. Weak, needy, blind to your inherent superiority. It’s as though every moment you spend with these meatlings drags you deeper down to their level. Do I even want you anymore?”

Doyoung falls silent, his holoscreen up and a finger on his lip as he considers this. “Yes, I definitely do.”

Dread consumes Jeno as Doyoung brings the same finger to a button on the screen and presses it with a small, “boop.”

The humming ceases at once and the next thing Jeno sees is Renjun’s eyes shine scarlet and the flash of a blade too fast to understand. It’s only Yangyang dragging Jeno back by his hood that saves him from decapitation. Almost as quickly, Donghyuck jumps into the fray and unleashes his arm blade, pushing Renjun back with a flurry of quick strikes. Yangyang pulls Jeno behind him, blindly tossing his bat to Jaemin so he can have both hands on his shotgun. 

“All that talk about compassion and empathy. Teamwork? Doesn’t mean much now, does it?” Doyoung cackles, taking a few steps back as taps something into his wrist console. Immediately Renjun parries a thrust from Donghyuck and uses the pushback to spring right to Doyoung’s side, eyes crimson, standing stiffly as though awaiting orders. 

Doyoung puts a fatherly hand on Renjun’s shoulder. “Welcome back, son. I’ll see to it that your We is destroyed by your very own hands.” 

“No...” Jeno mutters, taking an unsteady step back and bumping into Jaemin. “That’s not possible.”

“What?” Jaemin asks, looking much more alert now that he has a weapon in his hands.

“He’s not supposed to he hackable... it’s not...” Jeno shakes his head again and again. 

_I need you to kill me._

“Don’t be naive, Jeno. You think I’d tell Eos if he were hackable?” Doyoung snorts, looking fondly over at him. “No, no, _no._ Of course I designed a hidden fail safe in case something like this happened. It took some preparation, hence my stalling, but now his mind is unplugged and his body— _my_ body obeys only me.”

“Is he...?” Dead. Jeno can’t even say the word.

“Think of it as him being asleep, though it would be most accurate to say he’s sleepwalking.” Doyoung ruffles Renjun’s hair and a wave of nausea rolls through Jeno. “Even more accurate to say he’s sleep _killing—"_

Doyoung is interrupted by rocket-propelled grenade flying towards him that Renjun steps between, blocking it with the back of his hand and taking the explosion with ease. Jeno turns around to see that Donghyuck’s entire right shoulder has reconfigured itself into a rocket launcher, the attack acting as the starting pistol for the two cyberlings to fly at each other, picking up their battle right up where they left off.

Renjun and Donghyuck move too fast and too close together for Yangyang to use his shotgun on them so he surges to the side to take a shot at Doyoung. The scientist calmly raises his arm to to cover his face and the shells bounce impossibly off his white lab coat, flying back at Yangyang before he can dodge.

Jaemin jumps in front of him, blocking the ricocheting bullets with Donghyuck’s black jacket much like Doyoung had done with his own coat. “I think _not,_ you son of a bitch!”

Frantically searching through his console for the source of that strange buzzing frequency that hijacked Renjun, Jeno takes unsteady steps back, his baton bouncing against his leg as a screaming reminder of what he promised to do. No, Jeno will exhaust every other option before doing as Renjun asked, he has to. There are stars to see and a life to build and there must be an alternative. 

If what Renjun said is true, Donghyuck’s skills surpass his own but Jeno thinks that could have been because of their pact not to kill each other—there’s no other reason for Renjun not to have an immeasurable advantage over the half-cyborg. Donghyuck is the better fighter but Renjun is just _stronger,_ especially in uncontrollable Kill Mode with an almost fully charged battery. The half-cyborg can’t seem to get the same sort of instant-kill hit in that he used against Renjun the first time. 

As soon as Jaemin blocks the ricochet of the shotgun shells, Renjun changes his target and flies straight at Yangyang, his eyes burning red and face completely expressionless. Jaemin manages to spin them around, once more blocking Yangyang with the coat, and in that moment Renjun changes his strategy and kicks Jaemin strongly, sending the two of them tumbling backwards. Jaemin falls heavily on Yangyang, knocking the wind out of him. Donghyuck just barely gets between them as Renjun attempts to stab Jaemin through the eye amidst the confusion, parrying the thrust and pushing back to start their dangerous scuffle all over again. 

While the four of them fight Jeno just glares at Doyoung, who stares right back with a dark grin. If they get his wrist console they can reverse what he’s done to Renjun. Jeno turns back to the fight just in time to see Jaemin and Donghyuck working in tandem while Yangyang reloads his shotgun. As soon as Jeno understood the properties of the jacket he thought it should be the cyborg wearing the armor instead of Jaemin, but then he sees their strange battlefield chemistry.

Armed with a repulsor shield, the White Rabbit can hold his own well enough to be an actual asset to the Titan of the Sun instead of a body in his way. Jeno watches in awe as Donghyuck maneuvers Renjun so Jaemin can take a mighty swing at the back of his neck with Yangyang’s baseball bat. The bat shows its true colors, glowing teal around the point of impact and striking with a mightier blow than should have been possible. The force of the hit sends him falling forwards and Donghyuck tries to capitalize on the moment but Renjun twists his body and dodges the attempted strike to his carotid conduit before throwing a blind kick backwards at Jaemin, who barely manages to block the blow with the bat but is still sent flying back into a heap.

Renjun side-steps another one of Donghyuck’s swings, taking him straight into the trajectory of Yangyang’s shotgun. He fires twice at the cyborg’s head quicker than even he can react to and the blow tears a third of his skin off his face, revealing the grays and greens of his synthetic bones and muscles. 

With Jaemin out and Yangyang needing to reload again, Renjun evades Donghyuck and flips out of the fray for a heartbeat before flying right back in, a long knife in each hand. 

“Enjoying the show?” Doyoung calls to Jeno, walking towards them with his arms outstretched. “I’ll have him kill his friends first, then his brother. You’ll be last... and slowest. It will be intimate and _excruciating.”_

“What happened to you?!” Jeno bellows, taking his own steps closer. “You were one of the heroes of modern science, your discoveries made the world a better place—and now you're here, in some subterranean pit tormenting the very thing you strove to protect. What _happened to you?”_

“What happened to me?” Doyoung cackles. “I evolved, Jeno. Childish idealism only gets you so far, especially in the face of such a game changing invention. I’m pleased to know you’re a fan of my earlier works, naive though they were. I grew out of them, Jeno, just as you will.”

“Like hell I will!” 

More shots fire, dragging Jeno’s attention to Renjun digging one of his knives deep into Donghyuck’s flesh shoulder. He moves so fast the half-cyborg’s reaction is delayed and he lets out a clipped scream as Renjun twists the blade and uses it to pull Donghyuck straight into an oncoming shot from Yangyang. He cries out as the shot hits that same stabbed shoulder from the other side of his body. 

Jaemin enters the mix again, swinging the bat down at Renjun’s knee but the cyborg catches it easily and after a bit of effort crushes it in his hand. With one hand holding the knife in Donghyuck’s shoulder and the other holding Jaemin’s bat, he swings the two around and chucks them in opposite directions. 

“Renjun STOP!” Jeno cries. “You’re in there, I know you are! Fight back, Renjun!” 

“That’s not going to work~!” Doyoung singsongs. “I have remote access to his meta controls—your precious _Renjun_ won’t wake up until I turn him back on.”

“RENJUN!” 

With a sharp cry, Donghyuck rips the blade out of his shoulder and throws it right at Doyoung, catching him unawares. He only barely raises his arm in time to block it. 

All they need is to get Doyoung’s wrist console, which means they have to keep Renjun away from him for as long as it takes for Donghyuck to remove it from his body. “RENJUN, please, please, just _fight back,_ all we need is a moment!”

Donghyuck stumbles to his feet, catching Jeno’s eye and nodding. All they need is a heartbeat to get it done but Renjun isn’t giving them even that. 

“Eos, my favorite son, don’t stop until they’re all dead.” Doyoung orders, tapping something into the console holo.

Jaemin struggles to stand and then all of the sudden Renjun is _right there_ , slashing down as he rises. 

“NO!” Donghyuck bellows, surging forward to protect Jaemin instead of taking the opportunity to strike at Doyoung. He doesn’t even make it in time but somehow Jaemin manages to dodge the strike and roll out of the way. 

Jeno flicks his stun baton out and races towards Doyoung just as Yangyang takes a shot that barely misses. 

“You think if you get my console you can reverse what’s been done to him. I’m delighted to inform you that you’ll never lay a finger on it.” Doyoung takes off the wrist console just as Renjun leaps towards him. 

The hand off feels like slow motion for Jeno, who watches Doyoung toss the console over to Renjun. The cyborg catches it and just as easily crushes it into a dozen pieces. Doyoung breaks the stunned silence by cackling louder than ever. 

“Now he won't stop until he kills you all.” He melodramatically wipes a tear from his eye like a proud parent and Jeno doesn’t know what to do. 

Donghyuck steadily loses blood, Jaemin has taken too many hits for a meat human, and Yangyang is almost out of shells. 

“RENJUN, PLEASE!”

Without the console they can’t bring him back. His last order from Doyoung was to kill them all and still holds water, clear from Renjun changing his target yet again—this time to Jeno. One moment Renjun is across the lab and the next he’s right in front of him, scarlet eyes locked on his. 

They may be screaming red with bloodlust, but they’re still Renjun’s eyes—not dead, not cruel, not the eyes of a predator despite current evidence to the contrary. He drops one of his knives and grabs Jeno by the throat in an instant, lifting him so his toes barely graze the floor. 

“R-Renjun, st—” He chokes out, hands scrambling at the one Renjun has holding his throat. “P-please!”

“Kill him, Eos.”

“JENO!” Yangyang bellows, tossing aside his empty gun and snatching up the broken bat. 

Dizzy from lack of oxygen, Jeno’s eyes water as he gasps out, waiting for the inevitable moment when the person he loves crushes his throat like a soda can. But it doesn’t come, Renjun doesn’t break him right there. He freezes solid, face suddenly screwed up as his eyes flash silver and then red again. Fighting against himself. 

“J-Jeno.” Renjun finally speaks, somehow temporarily overcoming Doyoung’s re-programming. 

“KILL HIM, EOS.” 

“You... promised m-me.” He continues, eyes settling on silver. 

_I need you to kill me._

Tears stream silently from Jeno’s eyes as he struggles in Renjun’s iron grip, shaking his head over and over. 

“You _promised!”_

Time slows for Jeno once more as memories flood his mind: bloody Renjun on his doorstep, Renjun still steadfastly refusing to wear shoes, Renjun tugging him down by his hoodie to demand a kiss. 

No stars, no therapy. No list. All that will be left of him is the AIA algorithm, once a thing of beauty and now revealing itself to be a curse. He doesn’t want the algorithm if he can’t have Renjun. 

“Jeno!” Eos slowly begins to win back the struggle against Renjun. “KILL ME!”

With a roar, Jeno flips the stun baton in his hand and reaches around Renjun’s head to stab him in the nape of the neck with it. Rippling white trails of electricity pour into him, an overload of dirty energy directly into his charging port. Renjun seizes in place before falling to his knees, still with his hand around his throat. Sobbing, Jeno continues to apply more unending electricity, never taking his eyes from Renjun’s even as they flash brown, silver, red, again and again. 

Eventually the baton runs out of shock to give, sputtering out just as Renjun’s grip loosens and his eyes dim before he falls sideways, once more taking Jeno right with him. Silence falls as he stares into his dead eyes, fingers wrapping around the wrist of the hand still holding his neck. 

“Did not see that one coming.” Doyoung breaks the silence.

Immediately Donghyuck is right there in front of him and smoothly slits his throat, turning his back on him and walking way before the scientist can even bring a hand to his neck. With a low gurgle Hyperion, the Titan of Light, drowns in his own blood and slumps to the ground. 

Jeno’s tears flow without end but he doesn’t utter another sound, staring into Renjun’s eyes as though in another moment they’re going to light up again. 

One more moment now. 

Yangyang reaches Jeno, panting, falling to his knees to pull him out of Renjun’s slackened grip but Jeno doesn’t let go of his wrist. “N-no, we... we can still...”

“Jeno...” Yangyang mutters softly. “We have to get out of here.”

“No, we... can’t leave him.” Jeno shuts his eyes and shakes his head violently. There must be something they can do, some way to keep his brain alive and then Jeno can just rebuild the body. It isn’t impossible, he has about five to ten minutes until Renjun’s brain dies along with his body. 

“Jeno!” Jaemin calls suddenly, he and Donghyuck leaning on each other as they wobble over to them. “Brain in a jar. Brain in a jar!”

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about?” Yangyang asks angrily. 

“I joked with Renjun that Jeno would still be into him even if it were just his brain in a jar.” Jaemin explains quickly. “So put his brain in a _goddamn jar_.”

“If there’s any place on earth with the tools to do that, it’s here.” Donghyuck mutters, getting behind Jaemin’s idea. 

“I can rebuild...” Jeno mutters, running his hand through Renjun’s hair. “I’ll rebuild you, Renjun.” 

Suddenly imbued with energy, Jeno and the rest start scouring the lab and with their combined expertise plus a little Liu Yangyang ingenuity they manage to connect an old aquarium filled with protein liquid to Jeno’s wrist console for constant electrical exposure. It’s a quick fix put together in delirium but it will get the job done until they can get what they really need. Jeno triggers a self-deleting program within SECTORm’s network, dissolving all recorded documents about Renjun, Donghyuck, the AIA algorithm, and the whole damn Hyperion Project. While he does this, Jaemin manages to disarm and remove the bomb in Donghyuck’s head. They leave the lab as soon as possible, leaving Doyoung’s body without another glance. 

The ascent to the ground floor flows by in a dull blur for Jeno, and then all of the sudden he’s out of the building and in one of Yangyang’s friends’ cars, alternating between looking at the brain he fell in love with and staring out the window as he considers what his first move should be in terms of restoring Renjun’s consciousness. 

They immediately move to another one of Jaemin’s safe houses, this one outside the Seoul city limits and already set up with its own laboratory designed to make use of both Jeno and Jaemin’s engineering specialties. Days pass slowly, with Jaemin and Donghyuck both weighing in on neural-electrics and brain-computer interface models but Jeno still doesn’t make much progress. Now that they’ve kept his brain going, the next step is to establish communication. Jeno works on the problem for a solid week before one of his wiring configurations finally seems like it might just work.

Sitting in the dark of War Room 4.0, lit only by the pale green glow of the life-sustaining fluid surrounding his brain in a tank Jeno plugs Renjun into his computer, opens up a simple direct messaging line, and types in the same three words he has been trying after every reconfiguration of the wiring:

_I love you._

After watching for almost half a minute, there’s still no indication of any entity having seen the message. Jeno is just about to look away when an ellipsis pops up and his heart stops entirely until he receives a message of his own.

_I love you too. Now get your shit together and rebuild me before you grow old and ugly._

It takes Jeno half a year before getting Renjun into a proper body, it’s just not a human one. Completely rebuilding Renjun’s body from scratch would take far longer than he could stand being trapped in a jar for so Jeno and Jaemin worked together to build a mechanical cat body to embed him into to hold them over. Another half year passes and Jeno takes Serif and Renjun the cat and moves to the country so they can always see the stars while he builds him a new body from scratch.

The Speculative Cybernetics Organization breaks up amicably, with Yangyang and his friends forming their own arm of the White Rabbit’s enterprise that deals with drones, explosives, and automotives they have charmingly named the Top Hat. Donghyuck stays with Jaemin out of both necessity and desire—while Yangyang still remains Jaemin’s right hand, Donghyuck is unquestionably his terrifying and slightly murdery left. 

Two years and 24 days after sticking Renjun’s brain in a jar, Jeno finally gets him back in a body—a near exact replica of his original form, complete with the scar. 

Together they look at the stars, they binge watch, and they find a therapist. Human stuff. 

**Author's Note:**

> anyone else smell a nahyuck sequel?
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/jenoscreamingo)


End file.
